


Linked To His Heart

by sitabethel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Chains, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Angst, Penetration, Shadow RPG, Tendershipping, Top Ryou, bottom bakura, guess who's back?, in-game battles, in-game gore, in-game injury, in-game violence, plz ask to tag if i forgot something, with happy ending of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel
Summary: Bakura's rescued from the Shadows by Anubis but doesn't have enough ib to weigh. The gods want to send him back, but Zorc Necrophades wants his lost property back. Bakura needs a guardian to keep his soul safe. Fortunately, ya boi Set got an idea ;)
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 107
Kudos: 57
Collections: Yu-Gi-Oh! Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

Bakura shrieked; the pain was sharp and penetrating. In that last moment, when Zorc sank his claws into the remaining scraps of Bakura’s soul and bore his angry, crimson gaze down onto Bakura, the Thief swore he wouldn’t break...wouldn’t give Zorc the satisfaction of a single scream. 

Then the darkness pierced through his wrists, ankles, and guts, pinning him to the shadows. Needle thin tendrils slithered into Bakura's veins, sucking whatever remained of his soul. The pain was like a rising noise, sorting through him, raising in intensity. He didn't scream; he shrieked. 

Open-mouthed, he shrieked. Drool dripped from his mouth, snot from his nose, tears from his face. There was nothing but his screams, the pain, and the darkness.

Then a black shape moved through the rest of the shadows. This was not _void_ , like Zorc and the Shadow Realm, this creature was _black._ It had substance, unlike the emptiness around him.

A pair of golden eyes stared at Bakura. The former Ring-spirit ignored the beast and wept freely. He couldn’t lift his head, only glance at the creature through his side vision. 

“This is not just,” the beast growled.

With his teeth he tore into the thin tendrils and ripped them away, spitting them into the rest of the shadows. Bakura fell and slammed against the ground—though the darkness had no true floor or ceiling. His white hair scattered across the darkness like the last scrap of paper untouched by spilled ink. 

**The thief is mine**

Bakura cringed at Zorc’s voice. 

“No. He's not.” The beast changed into the shape of a man. 

He scooped Bakura into his arms and walked out of the Shadow Realm. Bakura passed out from sheer relief. 

As his mind floated back to consciousness he heard a rush of voices around him. 

“I can’t Weigh a heart he doesn’t have.” 

“There’s hardly anything left of his soul, any of it.” 

“Leave him in the Duat. Let him wander with the other damned.” 

“No. We have to do something. This isn’t right.” The last voice was familiar. He should know the name, now. That name defeated him, but in Bakura’s current state he could only think _pharaoh_. 

“It isn’t _just_ ,” the beast agreed. Bakura understood now. Anubis, the god of the underworld and judge of the dead, had fetched him for his weighing, but Zorc had consumed most of him before Amit had the chance. 

“We’ll test him. See if he’s capable of love without a heart.” A woman’s voice. Bakura guessed Ma’at’s. 

“We can’t set him loose. If given the chance, Necrophades will recapture him,” Anubis said. 

“Then he needs to be bound to someone living who’s powerful enough to protect him.” 

Bakura opened his mouth to sneer at the fools. No _human_ was stronger than Zorc, nor would anyone be willing to protect _him_. Instead of words, another shrill cry left Bakura. He sobbed again. He clenched his fist, infuriated with how he had broken under the pain. His entire body trembled, and he couldn’t force it to stop. 

“Bakura…” Pharaoh scooped him into his arms. 

Bakura turned away, shielding his face. 

“I know someone.” Another god spoke. 

“He has to agree—none of your tricks,” the Pharaoh said. 

“Tricks? Me? Never.” The god purred the words. “I swear on the Tribunal that I’ll get the Host’s consent before I bind them together.” 

Host? Oh no…

Bakura reached out his hand, forcing his eyes to open and words to croak from his throat. 

“Don’t—”

It was too late, the chimera (Set), vanished. 

***

Ryou hummed as he walked back to his apartment. A shopping bag was tucked in Ryou’s arm and he was looking forward to an epic bowl of homemade ramen. He would have thought he’d gotten tired of controlling his own body after all these years, but simple things like walking, humming, making lunch always filled Ryou with joy. The sun was warm and gentle on his face. A spring breeze blew petals into his hair and surrounded him with the perfume of sakura blossoms. Behind him someone whistled, clearly in as good of a mood as Ryou. 

“ _Konichiwa!_ ” He greeted Ryou with a dramatic bow. 

“Good afternoon.” Ryou nodded his head. “Pardon me for asking, but would you happen to be from Egypt?” 

“What gave me away?” He stared down at his outfit which screamed _tourist_. 

“Your accent.” 

“Is it so bad?” 

“No. You speak wonderfully!” Ryou laughed. “It was only familiar.” 

“You have friends there?”

“Yes,” Ryou answered. The Ishtars were more or less friends, though Ryou hadn’t spoken to any of them in years. 

“Would you like another?” He grinned. 

“Of course we could be friends. Would you like some lunch?” 

“Oh, not me, per se—though I accept your offer.” He winked, flirtatious. “I know someone who’s sick, and I think he’d recover more quickly here. I was wondering if you could show him around town? Y’know, look after him a bit?” 

“Sounds like he needs a doctor.” Ryou frowned. 

“Ah, not that sort of sick you see. He’s hurt…” He pressed his palm on Ryou’s chest. “ _Here_.” 

Ryou gasped, eyes wide, he _felt the pain_ of whoever it was this stranger wanted to help. Tears rolled down Ryou’s cheeks and empathy overwhelmed him for whoever was suffering so unbearably. 

“Of course…” Ryou whispered. 

He knew this wasn’t something that should be real, wasn’t something that should be happening, but as someone who still loved to search for the occult, it didn’t surprise Ryou that he’d once again found it. 

“I’d be happy to help him. What do I have to do?” 

“Nothing really. If he gets better or not is up to him, but make sure he doesn’t get kidnapped by any dark gods, all right?” The stranger grinned. 

“Wait, what?”

Before Ryou could word the question and ask the stranger to explain, a golden manacle slammed over his wrist. 

“Great! Best of luck! You’re a real pal!” He waved before disappearing. 

Ryou’s mouth dropped when he saw the Ring Spirit sitting on the curb, forehead tucked against his knees. 

“Oh come on!” Ryou gripped his groceries, afraid he’d drop them from the sheer shock. “Anyone but him!” 

“Atem wanted you to tell Yugi he said hi,” Bakura muttered, still in a ball. 

“This was Atem’s idea?" Ryou stepped backward until the chain connecting them drew taut and prevented him from moving farther. 

“Not to use you, of course not. Set’s just an asshole like that.” 

“Ah, so that’s who he was.” Ryou sighed. He shook. “Well, they say no good deed goes unpunished.” 

“Fuck this. We’ll find a way to cut the chain.” Bakura pushed himself up and turned in the opposite direction. “What are you waiting for? Let’s get back to your apartment.” 

“I don’t live that way,” Ryou said. 

Bakura glanced over his shoulder. “How long was I gone?” 

“Close to ten years.”

Bakura winced, lips peeling back from his teeth in a partial snarl. Ryou sighed, shoulders slumping. 

“I’ll show you the new place. You can help me make lunch.” 

Bakura glared at him, but followed. A few people said hi as Ryou went to the top floor of his building. He could tell by their reactions that no one else could see Bakura or the golden chain, but he looked solid and real to Ryou. 

“Are you a ghost?” Ryou asked. 

“I guess.” He shrugged. “Didn’t have a heart to weigh, soul was half eaten, I don’t think they really knew what to do with me...didn’t want them to pawn me on you.” 

“Well, no one else deserves to have to deal with you either, so I guess I’m at least the most qualified.” Ryou walked out of the elevator when the doors opened. 

“Damn, so it’s like that? You’re not even going to try to hope for the best or think maybe I could change?” 

“I did think that—several times.” Ryou snapped. 

“Touché.” Bakura lowered his head. 

“I’m sorry. Despite what you did in the past, no one should suffer the way you are.” Ryou shook his head and he fumbled in his pocket for his key, which was difficult with a cuff and chain around his wrist. 

“What do you mean?” Bakura’s voice grew tense. 

“It was something Set did before he bound us. I only felt it for a minute, but…” Ryou sniffed, breath threatening to break as his chest hitched. 

“Fuck you.” Bakura slammed his fist against the wall. The wall shook as if it were anyone else punching it, despite Bakura being invisible. 

Ryou flung up his chained hand in exasperation and allowed it to drop at his side. The gilded links clinked against each other as the chain moved. He wiped the tears away from his cheeks, threw his shoulders back in defiance, and stared at the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. 

“I’m not sure if you’re mad at _me_ for showing emotions or afraid that I might inspire _you_ to do the same. In any case, _fine_ , we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But at least shut up and follow me into the kitchen so I can eat.” 

“Whatever,” Bakura grumbled as they moved. 

Ryou chopped his vegetables as the miso broth simmered in a large pot. Neither one of them spoke. Ryou focused on his knife; Bakura sat on the kitchen table with his arms crossed. 

“Can you eat?” Ryou asked when it was time to cook the noodles. 

“I...think so?” Bakura stared at his hands. “They used to leave food for the dead, so I guess I can.” 

“I’ll make two bowls.” 

“Okay,” Bakura said. 

It grated Ryou’s nerves that he couldn’t manage a _thank you_ for even something so simple, but he let out a slow breath and decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. 

“You know, this reminds me of Death Note.” 

“What?” 

“Oh, I suppose that came out after you left. You can read it, if you want?” 

“Guess so. Don’t know what else to do.” 

“You said you spoke to Atem?” 

“Not really. He spoke to me. I would have spat at him, but—got taken away too soon.” 

Based on the agony in Ryou’s chest, he suspected Bakura didn’t spit because he’d been crying. _That_ was the real reason he was angry at Ryou’s tears. He knew they were a reflection of _his_ pain. Ryou turned to look at Bakura. He wanted to say... _something_ , but what? 

_I forgive you_ would have been a lie. Ryou’s hand hurt when he used it too long. His chest itched, and he was pretty sure the scar on his arm was the reason Malik avoided him even when he visited the others. Not that Ryou could _remember_ most of Battle City—or the year before or after. Ryou set down his knife, leaning against the counter. 

“Hmm… I remember being that tense. You’re angry,” Bakura said.

“I have so many _gaps_ where I can’t remember _anything_ ,” Ryou admitted, and yes, he was angry. 

“For the best, really, none of it was good.” Bakura shrugged. 

“Yes, that would be your response. Don’t take accountability. Don’t apologize. Just make it sound like you did me a favor by stealing _my life_.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say?” Bakura grit his teeth. “I failed? I was punished? Isn’t that good enough?” 

“I want you to show _empathy_.” Ryou’s face crumbled. “But if not, perhaps a shred of remorse will do.” 

“You’re forgetting the part where I’m here because I didn’t have a heart to weigh.” Bakura shook his head. “So maybe we can start with something a little simpler than _emotions_ in way of an apology.”

“Are you even sorry?” Ryou shouted. 

“That, dear landlord, would be an emotion. Did I not explain clearly enough?” 

“I understand you don’t have a heart, but you’re also a liar.” Ryou shook the noodles dry before slipping them into two bowls of broth. 

He’d _felt_ Bakura’s emotions. _With his own heart_. _There_ _was guilt and sorrow and a yearning to make it all worth something._ Bakura may not be sorry for what he did, per se, but he was sorry it ended up being for nothing because he lost. 

“You’re crying again.” Bakura growled. 

“Get over it. My heart’s alive and well.” Ryou set a bowl beside Bakura before sitting down to eat. “I was having such a splendid day before you showed up.” 

“Well sorry I ruined your perfect little day!” Bakura dropped into his chair. “Soon as you're fed, we can try and cut this chain and you’ll never have to see me again.” 

“I think I’m supposed to be protecting you from Zorc. There was mention of a dark god kidnapping you.” 

“Hell no. What are you going to do? Cry? Give him a heartfelt speech about friendship? He’ll shred _your_ soul to ribbons and then finish drinking mine like a juice box!” 

“I’m _not_ as weak as you always told me I was.” Ryou scowled at Bakura. 

“Of course not, you carried _The Ring_. That still doesn’t mean you can—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Ryou pressed both hands to his ears. “You already ruined my day! At least let me enjoy my lunch.” 

Bakura opened his mouth to argue, but grabbed his head instead. 

“Are you okay?” Ryou asked. 

“You don’t care, so don’t ask.” Bakura rubbed his temples. 

“Maybe you really do need food. Eat. I’m sure you’ll feel better.” 

“Or I can starve and then I can’t _ruin your day_ anymore.” 

“Bakura.” Ryou flinched. “I’m sorry. This is a lot to process out of the blue, but I _said_ I’d help, and I will. Please eat.” 

Bakura grumbled but slurped the noodles into his mouth. He glanced at Ryou.

“It’s pork ramen.” 

“Pork and miso, yes. Why?” Ryou tilted his head. 

“Nothing, it’s just...it’s good. That’s all.” He fished out a slice of pork and rammed it into his mouth. 

“Thank you.” Despite his frustrations, despite his past pain at Bakura, Ryou smiled because of the small compliment. 

***

Ryou keyed up a random anime to play while he painted Monster World figurines. Bakura thought about asking if he could help, but considering how badly they were getting along, Bakura changed his mind. The food cured his headache, but he was still exhausted. No, not simply tired, he was empty. Zorc had stolen so much, and Bakura felt as if the Shadow Realm still flowed in his veins. 

He couldn’t stand it. 

He was a lot of things in life and after it, but he was always _passionate_. In his anger, his hatred, his raw fucking desire for revenge, Bakura was a light house of focused retribution. 

But now? His thoughts were lethargic...numb. 

“They’re on the 7th Edition rule books now.” 

“Bet they’ve really mangled it,” Bakura said. 

“Some. I just cherry pick which rules I follow when I set up a game. It’s not as bad as some of the changes they made to Duel Monsters.” 

“You still play?” Bakura asked. 

“Nah, Yugi does a little. Jonouchi went pro.” 

“Why didn’t Yugi go pro?” 

“He designs other games for Kaiba Corp. He still enters a few tournaments, but he sticks to his own games to help promote them—and I think he just enjoys them more. Duel Monsters is...nostalgic for him.” 

Bakura grunted. 

“What was the afterlife like?” Ryou asked. 

“I only saw the Tribunal. Looked much like any other trial in Egypt.” 

“I’m sure you’ve had your fair share.” Ryou chuckled. 

“Not really. Don’t become the King of Thieves if you’re often caught. Got sent to the mines when I was younger though. Seven years of hard labor. It was a death sentence.” Bakura drew a line down his cheek. 

Although he looked the same as he did when in the Ring, Ryou knew he was referring to the scar on the cheek of his original body. 

“Did you escape?” Ryou dropped his paint brush into a cup of water, getting pulled into Bakura's story instead. 

“I survived.” Bakura ground his teeth together. “I grew strong mining granite in the quarries so Pharaoh could have his stupid columns and polished floors. I fought other inmates for chickpea gruel. I refused to rest even when fever and sickness tore through our prison and killed almost everyone else. I walked out of that place scarred and half-starved, but stronger than I’d ever been. After that, I went home, learned how to use Diabound, and prepared to face my destiny.” Bakura curled into a ball. “Some destiny.” 

Ryou sighed and leaned into the sofa. The TV kept the silence from getting too awkward, but Ryou twitched. He wanted to comfort Bakura in some way, but didn’t know how. Bakura wouldn’t want kind words or a hand on his shoulder, and Ryou wasn’t sure he could touch the thief without getting angry and punching him. 

“Damn...guess I became a little like you after all.” Ryou shook his head. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I tell myself not to be angry with you...but I still am.” 

“Good. You should be angry.” Bakura pushed himself to his feet, pacing in front of the couch, unable to move further because of the chain. “Anger isn’t good or evil—anger is a response.” 

“But you did evil things because of it.” 

“And the pharaohs did evil things because of justice—but justice isn’t any more good than anger is evil. It’s what’s evil _to you_ , or what’s good _to you_.” 

“Well…” Ryou thought about Bakura’s words. “Yes, I think you’re right, but lashing out at you in anger isn’t something I want to do. I’ll have to figure out another way to deal with it. A productive way.” 

“I thought I was being productive too.” Bakura snorted, dropping to the couch. “I haven’t slept for thousands of years...why am I so tired now?” 

“I am too. Let’s go to sleep.” Ryou stood. 

When they entered his bedroom, Bakura plopped onto the floor. 

“That’s not really necessary.” Ryou winced. He didn’t want to share his bed, but Bakura was more than a dog who had to sleep on the rug. 

“It’s fine. I slept like this in Egypt.” 

“But you could—”

“It’s fine.” 

“Stubborn asshole,” Ryou muttered under his breath as he changed into his pajamas. 

“Do you talk to Yugi about friendship with that mouth?” 

“I’m sure you’ve said much worse with my mouth.” Ryou stared at the ceiling. “And done worse things with my hands. An occasional profanity won’t be what drags my heart down when _I’m_ weighed. Also, after this, I think the gods owe me one.” 

Bakura grunted for an answer. He jerked when a pillow landed on his head.

“What’s the big idea?”

“You should at least be a little more comfortable.” Ryou tossed a blanket to him as well. 

Bakura stared at the blanket and pillow. The words _thank you_ almost escaped from his mouth, but he decided it’d sound hollow and insincere, so instead, Bakura curled under the blanket and stayed quiet so Ryou could fall asleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryou: you'll get better  
> Bakura: there is no better for this  
> Ryou: then you'll get stronger  
> My depressed ass raising my kefir into the air: Fuck yeah we will. 2020 can sux dez nuts.

Ryou bolted upright, heart racing. Wailing echoed in his room. Only the golden chain trailing off of the edge of the bed reminded Ryou that Bakura slept on his floor. Ryou leaned over to look. Bakura curled into the fetal position, crying as if something were dissolving him from the inside out.

“Bakura?” Ryou crawled to the floor beside him, holding him. “Bakura, wake up.”

Ryou had to shake him to get him to wake. Bakura scrambled away until the chain tugged at him when he reached the far end of the room. Bakura gnawed at his wrist, desperate to free himself.

“Stop that!” Ryou lunged for him and pulled his wrists away from his mouth. “Bakura, you’re safe.This won’t hurt you.”

He glanced at Ryou, eyes terror-wide. He blinked, recognition slowly filling his gaze.

“Ryou?” He asked in a small, lost voice.

“Yes.”

“You look older.”

“Ten years older, remember?”

“Ten years…” Bakura bowed his head. “No wonder I’m so empty. All that time and he sucked everything out of me.”

Bakura curled in on himself again. Harsh tears hiccuped from his chest.

“Set said you’d get better here.” Ryou wrapped his arms around Bakura. “You’re going to get better.”

“There’s no better for this.” Bakura rocked, refusing to settle against Ryou.

“Then you’ll get stronger.” Ryou clung a little tighter to Bakura, rocking with him. “It’s what you do.”

“I can’t this time…” Bakura fisted the top of Ryou’s pajamas.

“Come on.” Ryou scooped Bakura into his arms and stumbled toward the kitchen.

“What are you—”

“Making tea. We’re stuck together so…”

“Put me down.”

Ryou did as soon as they were close enough that he could reach the kettle while Bakura stood and hugged himself. He glanced around Ryou’s apartment, checking the shadows.

“He can’t get you here. I bless the apartment regularly. Sage, salt, candles, bells, myrrh. Magic from all over the world. You’re safe,” Ryou insisted as he poured honey into two cups.

Bakura snorted.

Ryou let it go and set the tea on top of the table. He didn’t offer any to Bakura, merely placed the extra cup across from him and waited until Bakura wandered over on his own. Bakura sat and stared at the steam rising from the small cup.

“Won’t be so bad in the morning. You’ll see.”

Bakura’s gaze flicked to Ryou’s living room window, as if he were waiting for dawn to break. They dropped into an awkward silence. Ryou mused about Bakura’s reaction. Bakura was the type to stab himself and cackle like it was a personal joke. Pain couldn’t break him...at least, not the sort of pain caused in the physical world. Ryou’s entire body hurt as he remembered the emotions tearing through him when Set touched his chest.

Ryou’s gaze rose toward Bakura. His hair flew in every direction. Circles darker than Ryou’s clung below his eyes. His face was twisted in a scowl obviously meant to hide the panic and agony slicing into his soul.

Ryou reached out. He didn’t take Bakura’s hand. Instead, he clinked their manacles together.

“Hey, like it or not. We’re in this together.”

“You didn’t ask for it.” Bakura sipped from his cup.

“No, but I accepted it. I accepted you back.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I knew enough,” Ryou said. “If I had a chance to release you now, I wouldn’t do it."

“Liar.”

“I’m not you.” Ryou smiled.

Bakura grunted.

“Want to try and go back to—”

“No.”

“Video games?” Ryou stood and washed his tea cup.

“...I suppose.”

Ryou jangled their chain to get Bakura to stand and follow him to the couch. They sat on opposite ends. Bakura curled into a ball and stared at nothing in the general direction of the television. Ryou played Suikoden. He was too tired for anything intensive, but didn’t mind level grinding the characters with soothing RPG midi’s filling the dead air between him and Bakura.

Twenty minutes later, Bakura’s chin rested on his chest. Another fifteen and Bakura slumped sideways on the sofa. Ryou set the control pad on the floor, but allowed the music to keep playing. He wiggled behind his new roommate and pulled Bakura to his chest. Bakura groaned in protest, but didn’t wake. Ryou kept one arm wrapped around Bakura while the other combed the snags in Bakura’s wild hair.

“If Zorc comes after you, I’ll kill him.” Ryou’s jaw tightened as anger flooded through him. “No one deserves this. The gods are irresponsible for taking so long to save you. Well, not me. I’ll take the responsibility to protect you like they should have 3,000 years ago.”

Ryou stayed awake as long as he could, glaring at the shadows, challenging them, but Bakura’s weight on his chest comforted him, and the music soothed him, and he awoke to a tugging on his chain.

“Come on. It’s time for a bathroom break.” Bakura yanked the chain exceptionally hard and Ryou hit the floor.

“Ow. That was mean.” Ryou rubbed his hip. He’d been ready to fight a god for Bakura the night before, but now he was considering letting Bakura chew through his wrist again so they didn’t have to go to the bathroom together.

“Hurry dammit.” Bakura growled.

“Well, if you hadn't fractured my hip.” Ryou grumbled as he stood.

“Dramatic in the mornings, are we?”

“That hasn’t changed since high school.”

Ryou leaned against the hallway wall to give Bakura his privacy. But then he started and peered into the bathroom.

“If you’re a ghost, why are you peeing?”

“I don’t fucking know. The gods hate me? They’re probably laughing their fucking asses off right now.”

“Sounds about right.” Ryou slumped against the wall again.

“I thought you were more of the faithful, optimistic type?”

“I don’t have a problem with the gods per se, only their blind spots.” Ryou shrugged.

“Your turn.” Bakura washed his hands.

Ryou didn’t wait for Bakura to leave. Whipping his dick out, he used the toilet, washed his hands, and then stripped off his pants to take a shower.

“Can’t you skip that?”

“For the rest of my life?” Ryou asked.

“Fine.” Bakura crossed his arms over his chest, bringing attention to the chain.

“Hmm...how is this supposed to even work—oh. Convenient.” Ryou pulled off his shirt and it slipped through the chain as if the gold were a mirage.

“Gotta love how the gods make random things convenient, and other things completely unnecessary.”

“I think you were right. This is a game to them. Fuck them.”

“Ryou, language.” Bakura gasped.

“Please.” Ryou turned on the water.

He didn’t bother washing his hair. He’d have to get used to showering with Bakura tethered to him, but for the first morning it was annoying and he wanted out as quickly as possible. Bakura frowned at the shower stall before rolling his eyes and taking off his own clothes.

“Since I eat and piss, guess I better shower or I’ll probably start to stink.”

“I think the Ring was more practical than this.” Ryou wrapped a towel around himself. He couldn’t even get to his clean clothes because he was chained to Bakura. “Huh, you’ll probably need clothes too. Will you wear mine? Looks like we’re the same size.”

“Whatever. No one can see me. I could technically walk around naked.”

“I would feel pretty kinky walking around all day long with a naked man chained to me.” A smile stole across Ryou’s face.

“Don’t get any ideas. I’m stealing your clothes.” Bakura turned off the water, popped his head out of the stall, and stuck his tongue out at Ryou.

Ryou grabbed a towel from the shelf and tossed it at Bakura’s face. Bakura squawked, indignant, but used the towel to dry off. In Ryou’s room, they dug through the closet until they each found something acceptable.

“I swear to the gods your fashion sense is somehow _worse_ than before.”

“But they’re free.” Ryou stuck out his tongue before slipping into his shirt.

“So what’s the game plan?” Bakura dressed. “Do you have a job or something?”

“Game development for Kaiba Corp, but we’re in down time at the moment. It’s usually twelve hour shifts or two weeks off with that job.”

“Depending if Seto’s there or off playing a card game?” Bakura raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps.” Ryou grinned. He looked away. “I’m a little bit of a recluse when I’m not working. You probably didn’t notice, but the extra room is floor to ceiling Monster World and craft supplies. I just make games.”

“Who do you play with?”

“The gang, sometimes. Co-workers mostly. Especially after a long run of work and we’re all tired and need to decompress, but then after a short campaign everyone wanders off in their own directions.”

“Doesn’t seem like Yugi.”

“I don’t mind it.” Ryou shrugged. “Everyone’s busy. No one explains that, do they? How time gets faster the longer you’re alive.”

Bakura groaned. It was the closest to empathetic Ryou ever heard from him.

“Want to help me paint some figurines?” Ryou gestured toward his craft room.

“Got nothing better to do,” Bakura muttered as he crammed his hands into his jeans pockets.

“You sound like it’s an ordeal.” Ryou combed Bakura’s bangs into his face.

“Quit it.” Bakura snarled, rearranging his spikes.

“You like Monster World.” Ryou tossed on an old smock and handed one to Bakura.

“I liked stealing souls.” Bakura winced.

“You don’t look happy after admitting that?” Ryou tilted his head.

“Was that even me? Or was that Zorc?”

Bakura opened the blinds and stared out the window again. Light struck his face. Ryou couldn’t help thinking he was white as bleached bones. Bakura watched the traffic below, all the tiny people crawling over the sidewalk like insects, or worse—NPCs.

“All I wanted to do was steal from the kings who’d stolen my life. It was justice. Stealing the power that they sacrificed lives for was justice. When did that become collecting people like dolls? I...don’t think that was me.” Bakura shook his head.

“You were in the Ring for so long,” Ryou said, knowing Bakura didn’t want sympathy.

“I’m not sure what’s left of me.”

Ryou sat at the table and began customizing a new figure. He made a Bakura wrapped in gold chain and handed it to him.

“Here.”

“What’s this?”

“A new character. He’s not the Thief King. He’s not Zorc.”

“Then who is he?”

“Want to play and find out?”

“It’s just a game.” Bakura set the figure on the table. He sat and stirred a pot of black paint with a random paintbrush.

“It could be cathartic, don’t you think? Act out a bit through a character. I don’t have anything more exciting to do in my day-to-day, I’m afraid. But we can kill a pharaoh if you’d like.”

“No.” Bakura shook his head. “A dark god.”

“A horror campaign. You’re stealing my heart.” Ryou grabbed his laptop.

“You’re easy to please,” Bakura said in a dry voice.

“Let’s outline the campaign. What’s the setting going to be like?”

***

Bakura only went along with Ryou’s stupid idea because he had nothing better to do. He described the Shadow Realm, and the monsters, and the various traps used to drain weaker souls. He also described the one he’d been held prisoner in, though it made his veins burn all over again to think about. What felt like half an hour ended up being seven and Ryou ran out of the room to start dinner, only to be yanked backward by the chain connecting them.

“Of course. I’m coming.” Bakura exhaled, irritated by their codependency.

He sat at the kitchen table and tapped his finger against the table top. Meanwhile, Ryou bustled around, chopping vegetables and simmering more miso broth. Bakura saw a bulb of garlic sitting on the counter and snatched it. In no hurry, he peeled the bulb one clove at a time and popped them into his mouth, chewing each one while peeling the next.

“Are you eating that raw?” Ryou winced.

“It’s good.”

“It’s hardcore.” Ryou shook his head.

“It’s good for the lungs. My mom used to make me eat it.”

“Did she?” Ryou glanced over his shoulder.

“Nevermind. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“We should do some sort of light mechanic in our game,” Ryou changed the subject.

“The characters have to choose between using their ka to create light, which holds back the monsters and reveals traps, but also slowly drains their life, or conserve ka and play in the dark where all the battles are more difficult but you have access to more powerful spells.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant.” Ryou jotted a note on a pad he kept for grocery lists.

“We’re going to regret this at 3AM when we’re sleep deprived and trying to figure out stats.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” A warm smile spread across Ryou’s face. “It was fun, doing the ancient Egyptian diorama with you.” His expression dropped into a pained wince. “Except when you tried to destroy the world with it.”

“Yeah, except that part,” Bakura echoed.

He sounded hollow, even to his own ears. He felt hollow.

“Haha, you’re all out of evil powers.” Ryou tried to lighten the mood, but it was already dead weight smothering them.

The soup was a reluctant comfort, however. He loved pork, that much he remembered of himself. And garlic. Strong, savory flavors. The exact opposite of Ryou’s sweet tooth. They weren’t five minutes past dinner before Ryou was whipping up a cake and keeping Bakura tethered into the kitchen. He served tea and chatted about the games he worked on. Bakura thought it sounded okay, as far as work went. In another life, Bakura might have been a tomb builder decorating walls with depictions of feasts and glorious ka battles, but instead…

“Cake’s in the oven now. We can go into another room while it bakes. Video games? Figurines? Bathroom break?”

“Life sure is exciting.” Bakura snorted.

“I love this kind of excitement. Popping into my body at random hours of the day and never knowing if the blood was mine or not was a little _too_ exciting.”

Bakura jerked his gaze toward Ryou. It was jarring, how casually Ryou said it. How _normal._ Bakura had forced horror onto him. Again, he had to wonder who the fuck he was. Never a _good_ person. Not the Pharaoh’s type of good, and not particularly nice. But was he so selfish that he’d stolen an entire life? It didn’t feel quite right, but he didn’t want to admit how little control he had after Zorc puppetting him in the Ring.

Was it guilt? That gnawed at him? He didn’t want to admit to that either.

“Let’s paint,” Bakura said.

“Good choice.” Ryou grabbed their chain and swung it as if he were holding Bakura’s hand.

“Stop that. It’s annoying.”

“Boo hoo. You have to be mildly annoyed for thirty seconds while we walk from one room to another.”

“When did you get so impertinent?”

“When you lost your dark powers.” Ryou opened up a program on his laptop. “So with this I can design molds for anything we want to cast, then 3D print them. Smaller accessories might be easier to 3D print to begin with, but I like doing my own casts.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

“Huh?” Ryou glanced at him. “Oh yeah, you’ve been out of commission for a decade. Watch this. It’s fun!”

Ryou opened an old file and hit a few buttons. A machine in the corner of the room hummed to life. A warm plastic smell offended Bakura’s nostrils a moment later as it laid down layer after layer of material.

“It doesn’t look like much.” Bakura snorted.

“It takes time to stack all the layers. Wait and see! We’ll paint until then.”

“Stinks.” Bakura wrinkled his nose.

“You get used to it. Or we can move into the living room.”

“What about your cake?”

“Timer hasn’t gone off yet.”

Bakura painted a few generic warriors, more to kill time than for any purpose. When Ryou’s cell phone beeped, they were forced to the kitchen to remove the cake from the oven. Though sweets weren’t his favorite, the cake did smell better than melted plastic.

“I'd better do some laundry while I’m up.”

“That’s boring.” Bakura frowned.

“I know, but life’s rough and my clothes are going to get worn twice as fast now, so I better wash them.” Ryou tugged at the chain. “Come on, Bakura.”

“No. Fuck laundry. You still have some clean stuff left.”

“I’m not waiting until we’re stuck with our last two outfits to wash clothes. You don’t have to help, just move.”

“No.”

“Quit being stubborn.” Ryou gave the chain another tug.

“ _You_ quit being stubborn.”

“You don’t get to control what I do anymore!” Ryou put his bodyweight into his pull and managed to rip Bakura off of the kitchen chair.

“Asshole!” Bakura sneered, stumbling to his feet to keep from falling onto the floor.

“Don’t act like _I’m_ the asshole when you won’t even let me wash my clothes!” Ryou refused to back down.

“Fine.” Bakura kicked the chair. “We’ll wash your stupid clothes.”

“Our stupid clothes, remember?” Ryou scowled.

“ _Your_ stupid, ugly clothes that I have to wear!”

“Oh my gods, Bakura! If you want to pick out your own clothes we’ll go shopping, but then _you_ have to wash _your own_ clothes because I’m not helping!”

“Fine!” Bakura snapped.

“Fine!” Ryou shouted back. “So are we going to the hamper, or am I dragging you?”

“Whatever.” Bakura shoved past him to show that he’d go on his own.

Bakura crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot on the ground. Ryou grumbled the entire time he sorted his whites from darks.

“I can _never_ understand you. One second I feel like we’re getting along, and then you have to just sabotage it with your shitty attitude. I know you’re hurting Bakura, but keep in mind that I’m on your side.”

Ryou lifted the hamper and marched back to the kitchen where his washer and dryer were tucked away in a side closet pretending to be a laundry room.

“No one’s on my side. No one’s _ever_ been on my side,” Bakura snarled.

“I am on your side!” Ryou slapped the top of the washer with his open palm.

“Yes, as long as I follow you around like a puppy.”

“If you want to do something, ask! What do you want? To sit at the table for the rest of my life and stare at each other because you’re listless?”

“No, I just…”

“Where do you want to go, Bakura? Come on? I’ll grab my jacket. We can go _anywhere you want to go._ ”

“I want to go to the bank and rob it! You gonna help me with that?” Bakura barked.

“No! That’s illegal, asshole. You know crimes don’t count. Most anything else though, name it and we’ll do it.”

Bakura looked around. He didn’t want anything. He _wanted_ to want something. He wanted a goal. A direction. He had nothing but Ryou’s apartment as a jail cell. He was _chained_.

“I get it. This isn’t fair, but it’s not my fault,” Ryou insisted.

“Shut up, I’m trying to think.”

“You don’t have to be rude.”

“Wah-wah-wah.” Bakura rolled his eyes.

“You piss me off so fucking much!” Ryou screamed.

He jumped onto the washer and slammed the closet door to separate them. Although their clothes slipped through the chain as if it didn’t exist, the door seemed to acknowledge its presence and kept it ajar.

“Really mature, landlord.”

“Don’t! Call! Me! That! You! Jerk!” Ryou kicked the door with his slippered foot with each word. Each time the door tried to shut, but smacked the chain instead.

“Fine!” Bakura shouted back.

“Fine!” Ryou echoed, mocking him.

“Fine!” Bakura said again, to have the last word.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, re-reading this chapter had me clutching at my own heart, so sorry in advance. They'll, uh, work through it pretty soon.

Bakura sat on the floor with his knees tucked to his chest. He ass was cold from sitting on the tile for the better part of the hour. His legs were cramped. He wasn’t sure how he could be cramped if he was dead, but he ached all the same. Ryou was probably also cramped stuck in a dark closet. 

“Ryou,” Bakura said. 

“What?” His voice was muffled through the door despite the crack keeping it partly opened. 

“Your cake is cool enough to be frosted. 

“Who cares? I’m not hungry.” 

“You need to put your laundry in the dryer."

"I don't care."

"It beeped ten minutes ago.” 

“Then you do it.” 

“Fine I will.” Bakura agreed for the excuse to stand and stretch his legs. 

He opened the door. Ryou was curled into a ball, eyes puffy. 

“Were you crying?” 

“You don’t care so don’t ask.” 

“I didn't hear the sobs.” 

“I got used to being quiet when I cried.” 

“Why?” The sentence punched Bakura in the gut. 

“It’s easier.” Ryou looked away. 

“Why? Who are you hiding your tears from? Why were you crying to begin with?” 

“Who? You.” Ryou shook his head. “In my soul room. You would have mocked me.” Ryou hugged himself and looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Holy shit.” Bakura smacked his face. 

Ryou leaned how to cry so quietly Bakura couldn’t even feel it when their souls were connected. Because he was afraid Bakura would mock him—and Bakura _would have_. He wanted to vomit. Instead, he shoved the clothes into the dryer and held out his hand for Ryou to take so they could go frost his stupid cake. 

“Oh, you’re going to be nice now? What? Until it gets too scary for you to feel comfortable for five minutes so you have to go sabotage things again?” 

“Isn’t your ass cold?” Bakura asked. 

“Yes,” Ryou confessed. 

“Then can we please do something else?” 

“You said please,” Ryou said. 

“You’ve said all kinds of things this afternoon.” 

“Suppose I did.” Ryou scratched the back of his head, sheepish. “Okay.”

Ryou hopped off the washer, but he didn’t take Bakura’s hand. He wandered to the cake and stared at it.

“I’m not in the mood.” Ryou marched away.

“Ryou.” Bakura held the chain to stop Ryou from escaping. 

“What?” Ryou’s head drooped. His hair hung slack like limp yarn. 

“I didn’t want to ruin you eating cake.” 

“It’s nothing.” Ryou shook his head. 

“You were looking forward to it, and now you’re upset.” Bakura sucked in a deep breath. His gaze flicked toward the ceiling, wondering what the fuck the gods did to him before they sent him back. He didn’t feel right at all. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help that I’m upset.” 

“I don’t _understand_ why you’re so upset. It was just laundry.” 

“It’s not the laundry. It’s the way you balk. And it’s sudden. I can’t predict it. It makes me feel shell shocked, like I never know when the next bomb is going off.” Ryou shrunk in on himself. 

Bakura blinked. His jaw slack, his chest filled with cotton. Did he do that? Did he act that way? What had made him so reluctant to get up for Ryou’s laundry in the first place? The idea of following him complicity had seemed unbearable, like he’d be a slave. He resisted the will of the Pharaoh so utterly only to be subjugated by Zorc, and now...he didn’t know how to act, or what was a trap. 

_It’s Ryou._

Bakura’s own thoughts berated him. Ryou. Neither a pharaoh nor a dark god. Just someone who’d gotten caught up in fate with Bakura time and time again. 

“Can we wrap it? Maybe frost it tomorrow?” Bakura asked. 

“Sure.” Ryou sighed, unenthused by the idea, but too tired to argue further. 

“Can we play video games?” Bakura asked. 

He didn’t want to play, but things were too tense to work on their game, and they had to do something.

“Of course. Thank you for putting the clothes in the dryer.” 

Bakura grunted. They wrapped the cake and Ryou went back to the game he’d played the night before. The music calmed Bakura, helped him relax. He fell asleep again, but this time Ryou woke him up by shaking his shoulder. 

“Bakura, bed time.” 

Bakura grunted and shoved Ryou away, but Ryou only pulled at their chain. 

“The couch is uncomfortable. Let’s go to bed.” 

Bakura _really_ wanted to argue, but part of his mind realized they’d only get into another fight with them both more upset then before, so Bakura pushed himself up, used the toilet when Ryou detoured to the bathroom, and dropped onto the bed. 

“No floor tonight?” 

“Fucking uncomfortable.” Bakura buried his face into the closet pillow. 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind sharing the bed. Goodnight.”

Bakura grunted again, before nodding to sleep again. 

But in the dark, endless tendrils slithered into his veins and drained him until he couldn’t call out anymore despite the continuous pain.

***

Ryou awoke the same as the previous night, to Bakura’s heartbroken wails. He was still hurt from that afternoon, from their useless, unnecessary argument, but Ryou acted on instinct when Bakura cried. He pulled Bakura into his arms, held him close, petted his hair, whispered _it's okay_ over and over and over.

It took an hour for Bakura to settle into a deep sleep. Ryou dozed upright with Bakura in his arms. In the morning, Bakura's groggy voice woke him.

"Why are you coddling me?" 

"You were screaming." Ryou released Bakura and dropped into a comfortable position. His arms were sore from clutching to Bakura all night.

"Oh…" 

Ryou ignored him. Bakura wasn't going to say thank you, and he wasn't going to appreciate Ryou losing sleep to comfort him, and he wouldn't even— 

"I have to piss," Bakura said.

"Of course you do." Ryou grumbled, pushing himself to his feet.

"Why are you mad now?" 

"I'm not mad. I'm exhausted." Ryou rubbed his face. 

Bakura remained silent as he used the facilities. Ryou went ahead and emptied his own bladder while they were up.

"If you want a comic, or Gameboy, or something else to occupy your time get it now because I need at least a few hours of sleep," Ryou said.

"Just give me your phone." Bakura held out his hand, though Ryou didn't have it on him.

"Why?" Ryou narrowed his gaze.

"Internet in bed. Damn Ryou, I won't send Yugi your nudes if that's what you're worried about."

Ryou stared at him for thirty long seconds, and the void stared back. Finally Ryou said, in a low, grumbly voice.

"I'm going to drown you." 

"Excuse me?" Bakura gawked.

Ryou ignored him and shambled to the bedroom. He shoved his phone at Bakura's chest before burying himself beneath his covers. His thoughts evaporated as he slept hard. When his eyes fluttered open, he saw Bakura's face hovering over his own.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to will you awake with my mind," Bakura said.

"How long did it take?" Ryou grinned.

"Too long to take credit for you actually waking up—hurry and get out of bed. I'm bored as hell." 

"All right." Ryou groaned and rubbed his neck. 

He stretched, yawned, but stayed in his pajamas. The first thing he went for was a pot of tea, adding honey and sipping it to help wake himself up. 

“Don’t you have coffee?” Bakura asked. 

“Would you like some?” Ryou muttered, on autopilot. 

“Don’t bother. I’m not helpless.” Bakura dug through Ryou’s cupboards until he found the filters and coffee grounds. 

Ryou ignored him and nursed his tea. He heard Bakura clanking around, and he heard the coffee percolating. The aroma filled the kitchen. Ryou loved the smell despite preferring tea. 

“Here.” Bakura set a plate down in front of Ryou. 

The cake, covered in Cool Whip and strawberries. Not the buttercream Ryou had planned on the night before, but a good choice. Ryou swallowed. He held his tea with both hands to hide his trembling hands. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Thank you,” Ryou said. 

“I didn’t poison it.” 

“I don’t have poison in the kitchen,” Ryou answered. 

“Then why are you looking at the cake like it’s got a bear trap in it?” 

“Doesn’t it?” Ryou’s eyes flicked to Bakura’s face. 

Bakura looked innocent enough. He always did, whenever he tried to lure Ryou into trusting him because he wanted to use Ryou’s body to go after Yugi. _I just want to help, you need me, don’t you want to be friends_? All the excuses, the lies, the subtle gestures used to manipulate whirled in Ryou’s mind and his stomach twisted in knots. 

“What are you talking about?” Bakura asked. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t understand.” Ryou slid the plate away from himself. 

“I’m _trying_ to be nice!” Bakura shouted. 

“I know. Thank you.” Ryou sipped his tea, managing not to spill any. 

“Then I’ll eat it.” Bakura stabbed the plate with a fork and crammed as much in his mouth as he could. 

Ryou stared at his tea cup. 

“It’s good. There’s nothing wrong with it.” 

“I didn’t think it’d be anything less than delightful,” Ryou said. “But I didn’t want to pay for it.” 

“It’s your fucking cake, you already bought the ingredients.” 

“Bakura.” 

Bakura jerked his head up. He dropped the fork. It clattered on the floor. Crumbs stuck to the corner of his mouth, but Ryou’s hand was trembling too much to wipe them away. 

“I...broke you, didn’t I?” Bakura’s expression cracked. 

“It’s fine.” Ryou forced a smile, wanting to diffuse the situation before they screamed at each other again. 

“You weep without sobbing, you can’t even eat a slice of cake because you think…” Bakura grabbed his hair and shook his head from side to side. “But Yugi was never hurt, and you always saved each other. You’re fine. You should be fine.” 

“Yeah, I should be,” Ryou whispered. 

It seemed like everyone else was fine. Unless they were all faking it, which Ryou always secretly hoped just so he wouldn’t be alone in his dysfunction.

And he wasn’t dysfunctional, per se, he always managed to go about his life and be pretty happy, but Bakura's return stirred everything in Ryou’s guts. The chain around his wrist might as well have been a Ring around his neck. 

Bakura smashed both his fists onto the table top. 

“Bakura.” Ryou flinched. 

“Take me back!” Bakura shouted at the ceiling. “This isn’t right! Just let Ammit eat my soul, I don’t care!” 

“You’re so fucking selfish.” Tears streamed down Ryou’s cheek, and no, he wasn’t sobbing. 

“I’m trying to get them to take me off your hands!” Bakura screamed. 

“You’re making this about you!” Ryou set his cup on the table. “You finally feel an ounce of guilt, and instead of owning it, you’re what? Going to _stop existing_? Will that fix anything? Will it make me feel better? Will it make _you_ feel better? What good is oblivion?” 

“At least I can’t fuck your life up anymore if I don’t exist.” Bakura’s eyes gleamed. 

It shocked Ryou. It was the closest to real emotion he’d ever seen on Bakura for the sake of another person. 

“I need a little time. To get used to you being back,” Ryou said. 

“I don’t want you _used_ to me if I’m a burden,” Bakura snarled. 

“Then why don’t you say you’re sorry?” 

“So that’s it? I say sorry. You eat the cake and don’t flinch if I move too fast—and you know what? Maybe Zorc will say _he’s_ sorry and then I won’t scream in my sleep!” Bakura leaned across the table, screaming as if Ryou were in the other room instead of a dozen centimetres away. 

“There’s an important difference,” Ryou said. 

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Zorc doesn’t regret anything he’s done.” 

Bakura blinked. He dropped back into his seat, gaze locked onto Ryou. With a shaking hand, Ryou reached out and clinked their manacles together. 

“I appreciate your gesture. I will try to eat some later. Please understand that I don’t want to insult you, I’m just…” 

“Afraid of me.” Bakura smacked his forehead against the table. 

“Cautious,” Ryou said. 

“I don’t want to exist anymore.” Bakura wept. 

“Then perhaps this is your punishment.” Ryou rested his chin against the table. Tired. He was tired. A heavy, exhausted sort of tired. 

Bakura shoved away from the table. He scrubbed at his eyes, trying to hide the flash of vulnerability he’d displayed. Scanning the room in a panic, Bakura pulled the clothes from the dryer and filled the laundry hamper. 

“Bakura, I don’t need favors. That isn’t what will fix this.”

Ryou realized, with horror, it was probably the 3,000 years with Zorc which had programmed Bakura to respond to stress with odd attempts to _serve_ and _please._ It made the nausea grow from Ryou’s belly to his entire body. 

“Then what am I supposed to do?” He set the hamper on the table. “What will fix this?”

Ryou shook his head. “I don’t know…” 

***

They watched TV, though Bakura was sure neither of them saw anything on the screen. They sat without speaking. Ryou fell asleep and Bakura tried to join him, but the couch wasn't big enough unless they stacked. 

Ryou was always grabbing Bakura in his sleep, so he figured in was fair game to press beside him. Sharing a couch shouldn't have been harder than sharing a body, but somehow it was.

Then again, Bakura never considered Ryou's feelings when he used to control his body. He lifted his wrist to his face, stared at the golden chain.

Why gold? Set could have at least made it steel. Bad enough to remind him of his past, his failings, but he had to remember his prison as well…

Ryou cooed in his sleep. He slung an arm around Bakura and spooned against him. Bakura's shoulders stiffened. 3,000 years and it was hard not to associate touch with pain. Punches, kicks, battles, filaments of shadow squirming into his veins.

But not this. This was simple. It was…

Bakura shut his eyes, sighed, and willed himself to relax. He was being selfish again. He should have crawled on the floor, let Ryou have his own couch...but the feeling of _simple unconditional touch_ was more temptation than Bakura could resist. 

He never managed to sleep, but his body did relax as Ryou held him. Ryou awoke with a gasp.

"I'm sorry." He withdrew his arm.

"Hmm." Bakura yawned, pretending to wake up. 

"Nothing," Ryou muttered. "Are you hungry?" 

"I could eat," Bakura said.

"Are you hungry?" Ryou repeated.

Bakura's jaw set in a hard line. Why couldn't Ryou simply infer the information Bakura gave him? Why must each sentiment become a declaration?

"I suppose." 

"What do you want?" 

"Pork roast," Bakura said.

Ryou laughed.

"What?" 

"Nothing. I don't know. You're never direct, but that was a straightforward answer. We'll have to go to the store." 

Bakura wanted to run outside and scream at the gods for doing this. For making him _deal_ with this. For giving him back the ability to feel things, but no ability to process his feelings. He wanted to scream, and scream, and scream, but instead, he followed Ryou around to get ready. 

The fresh air calmed him. He was less claustrophobic. Ryou's expression relaxed as well. 

"It's dumb that you're invisible," Ryou whispered. "I can't even let you carry the groceries." 

"You _could_. It'd be fun to see people's faces." 

"That would be pretty funny." Ryou hid a giggle behind his hand.

Watching Ryou laugh confused Bakura. It stirred something within him he didn't understand. Bakura ignored it as he and Ryou gathered a few groceries and Ryou carried both bags home. 

He set the roast and vegetables into a pan and shoved it in the oven. He handed Bakura a bag of chips.

"Here. Snack on these while it cooks." 

"Don't you want them?" 

"Actually, I was going to try the cake." Ryou held his arm, the side with the scar from Battle City.

"You don't have to." Bakura shook his head. 

"Good. I wouldn't want to eat it if you expected it of me." Ryou pulled the cake out of the fridge.

The laundry was still on the table, and the fork lay on the floor. Bakura washed the fork and first plate. The laundry he set aside.

"This is good," Ryou said.

"Don't be polite." 

"Politeness is part of my nature, but I'm also being honest." 

"Okay." 

"How are your chips?" 

"Good." Bakura offered the opened bag to Ryou.

Their gazes caught. Too much time passed before Ryou reached his hand into the bag. He hummed and nodded to show that the chip was good. 

"I'm sorry," Bakura whispered.

Ryou choked. Bakura stood and hit Ryou's back. He handed Ryou some water.

"See? No good came of it." Bakura shook his head, but Ryou laughed.

***

Ryou folded his clothes and cleaned his room. Bakura watched like a silent, perturbed housecat.

"Would you…be in the mood to work on the game?" Ryou asked.

"It's better than laundry." Bakura smirked. 

"Right." Ryou remembered the Marowak skull he’d printed to show Bakura what his 3D printer could do. 

As soon as he had enough reach with their chain, he jogged to the little model and held it out to Bakura. 

“It...printed that?” Bakura glanced from the skull to the printer. 

“Neat, huh? Here. Take it.” 

“What am I going to do with it?” Bakura picked up the little skull and smoothed his fingers over the mildly porous surface. 

“I’ll clear a shelf for you.” Ryou shrugged. “I’m sure we won’t play long before you have enough of your own figurines to fill it up.” 

Bakura snorted, but something similar to a smile attempted to hook the corner of his mouth. Ryou rearranged all his figurines so Bakura had a shelf to himself. He set the skull in the corner. It looked lonely by itself, and he thought it was appropriate. Ryou tapped Bakura’s shoulder. 

“Let’s get to work.” 

Ryou went through his laptop notes, adding and expanding on their ideas. Bakura grabbed a notebook and sketched out some maps. Ryou glanced at him. His mouth was twisted in concentration, and his nose was wrinkled ever so slightly. It was cute. Ryou stifled the giggle bubbling in his chest. Bakura, thief and stealer of souls, would not want to hear that he was cute. Ryou slid his phone across the craft table. 

“Will you find some music? It helps me focus.” 

“Do it yourself,” Bakura muttered. 

“No. You’ll complain about whatever I choose, so _you_ pick.” 

Bakura’s eyes flashed, perturbed. Ryou gave Bakura a _well, I’m right_ shrug, and Bakura must have accepted it because he pulled up Ryou’s music app and selected a random rock song. The rest of the afternoon was peaceful. They worked on their game, speaking a little but allowing the music to fill the gaps for them. When the smell of pork roast filled the entire apartment, Ryou temped the meat and set it on top of the stove to rest while he set the table and made tea. 

“Dig in.” Ryou set a plate heaped with pork and roasted vegetables in front of Bakura. 

Bakura grunted in the way Ryou was beginning to understand meant thank you. Ryou’s stomach growled as he fixed his own plate. They hadn’t eaten much that day, so they both shoveled the food in their mouths, content with the quiet. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's post this chapter early so help us all recover from yesterday's heart-gripper.

“Hi, Yugi,” Ryou said over the phone. “Atem says hello.” 

“ _What?_ ” Yugi’s pitch rose, clearly thrown off by Ryou’s abrupt statement. He was on speaker so Bakura could hear the call as well. 

“Um…” Ryou swallowed. 

“Tell him you had a dream,” Bakura said. 

“The god Set chained the Ring Spirit’s soul to me, and now I’m stuck with him. He told me to tell you that Atem says hi.” 

“Are you crazy?” Bakura smacked his face with his palm. 

“ _Ryou, I know you like morbid practical jokes, but..._ ” 

“There’s not much I can do to convince you, I’m afraid. He seems to be invisible to everyone but me.” Ryou sighed. 

“ _Of course he is_.” Yugi changed the subject. “ _I was just calling to say hi. I’m back in town for a week, but then I have to go out again_.” 

“Duel Monsters tournament or Spherium?” 

“ _Spherium_.” 

“You’ll win, I’m sure.” 

“ _Thanks. So did you want to grab some lunch sometime before I go? I know your department has down time this week as well._ ” 

Ryou glanced at Bakura who shrugged.

“Sure?” Ryou shrugged in return. 

“ _Anywhere specific?_ ” Yugi asked. 

Ryou grinned. “Let’s just go to Burger World like we always do.” 

“ _Okay. I’ll swing by your place tomorrow at noon_.”

“Great. See you tomorrow.” Ryou hung up the phone. 

“See, telling the truth doesn’t pay off.” Bakura shook his head.

“It’s the principle.” 

“I’m stealing half your food when we eat.” Bakura crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I’ll order extra, but make sure no one besides Yugi sees the food dancing in the air.” 

“You like ghosts. Tell everyone you’re haunted.” 

“I thought you were against telling the truth?” Ryou smirked. 

“You would have never acted so haughty around me when we had the Ring.” 

“Miss your utter control, do you?” Ryou slipped his cellphone into his pocket. 

Bakura considered it. “Actually, I kinda like you being a little shit.” 

“You must really enjoy arguing.” Ryou shook his head. “No wonder you got along with Malik.” 

“That guy? _Pffft_.” Bakura snorted. “What happened to him anyway?” 

“He started a motorcycle manufacturing company. They’re like the Lamborghini of bikes.” 

“Sounds about right.” Bakura sniffed. 

“Speaking of lunch, what should we have today?” 

“Why do you make me pick everything?” Bakura scowled. “Shove something in my face. It’s not like I have a choice but to eat it.” 

“That’s why I’m trying to give you a choice.” Ryou sighed. 

“I don’t see why you bother.” Bakura stared into the refrigerator. He jerked when Ryou placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re worth the bother. You’re not a parasite anymore. It doesn’t have to be you or me in control—we can choose together.” 

“You’re an idiot.”

It was too much. Bakura shrugged Ryou’s hand away and shoved his entire face in the fridge. 

“You’re an idiot,” Ryou parroted. 

“We’re eating sandwiches.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Then we’re working on our game some more.”

“All right.” Ryou sliced tomatoes while Bakura layered meat and cheese on a sub roll. 

“Unless you have some chores or something we should get out of the way. Wouldn’t want to hear you complaining.” Bakura's cheeks felt hot as he made the offer to help Ryou before they worked on their game. 

“I think everything’s done enough, but thank you.” Ryou ruffled Bakura’s hair. 

Bakura batted him away, and Ryou laughed. Bakura did not look at Ryou’s laughing face. He did not see Ryou’s smile. He did not see the way it lit up Ryou's mauve colored eyes or hear the music in the laughter. They took their sandwiches into the craft room so they could eat and work at the same time. 

“Do you remember your life?” Ryou asked as he worked on the 3D models they’d need. The screen looked like a bunch of lines and nonsense to Bakura, but Ryou made sense of it easy enough. 

“A little.” 

“Was it exciting? To be a tomb thief in ancient Egypt?” 

“Sometimes. I was supposed to paint them though, not rob them.”

“Paint what?” Ryou glanced over his shoulder. 

“The tombs. That’s what I would have done...like my father. Before…” 

“Oh…” Ryou exhaled. “You would have been very good at it. You’re great at painting.” 

“ _Hmph_. Of course, I’m great at everything I do.” 

“I, for one, am glad I did not have to follow in my father’s footsteps. The museum is fine, but I’d much rather help create games.” Ryou returned to his 3D software. 

“There was one time…” Bakura doodled a horde of rats lurking in the dark corridors of their game maps. "I sneezed and set off a trap, but it missed my head because I folded over. It distracted me, and I stepped on a pressured tile and had to cartwheel down the hallway to avoid the arrows, and then flipped over a series of pits.” 

“That’s pretty amazing.” Ryou rested his cheek in his hand as he listened. 

“Would have been, but by the end of it all, I walked into a pillar and smashed my fucking nose. I was so pissed.” 

Ryou doubled over in laughter. His hair dripped almost to the floor because of its length. Bakura grinned, but he wasn’t enjoying the sight of Ryou laughing. He could never enjoy something as pure and simple as someone laughing. 

"That's great." Ryou popped up, rubbed tears from his eyes, and returned to his program. 

Bakura snorted in response.

“I don’t feel like I know you well enough at all, but that seems very much like you.” Ryou sighed. 

“You know me better than anyone else in the world—now or 3,000 years ago.” 

“Maybe...this will let me get to know you even more.” Ryou pursed his lips, tiny red _error_! messages appeared around his model. He hit ctrl-Z until they vanished and tried something different. 

“You probably won’t like what you find.” Bakura shook his head, shading in the rats, keeping the shadows thick around them. 

“Do you even know? What you’re really like?” Ryou asked. 

“No.” Bakura set down his pencil. 

He stared out the window, thinking about Ryou’s last question. He honestly didn’t know what he was like. He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to know… 

“This one's done.” Ryou saved his work before opening a new project. “Are we going to descend deeper into the Shadows with each level?” 

“It’s more like an Escher work than a descent, but for the sake of our mortal sanity—yes.” 

“How many layers?” 

Bakura pursed his lips, unsure. There were infinite cracks in the darkness. One could always descend a little deeper into the thick. 

“How about nine? There are supposed to be nine levels of hell,” Ryou said. 

“It will work.” Bakura shrugged.

“Each layer gets darker?” 

“Yes.” Bakura’s eyes stayed locked to the setting sun outside their window. “First, it's not so different from our world, only dim. Then, it’s like a night with no stars. Then the ground around you is a suggestion. You’re swarming in mists. The color drains...I never realized what we thought was dark, was still so, so bright until I saw that light seep away. And then there’s only fog and black until finally...Zorc’s nest, you could say.”

“That’s why you scream at night?” Ryou stared at the floor, his hands clenched together. 

Bakura hummed, not having the words. 

“What’s our base world?” Ryou snapped his head up, re-focusing them on the game. “Modern day? Fantasy? Ancient Egypt?” 

“Egypt,” Bakura said. “If we’re doing this as substitute therapy we might really make it dark. The game can take place in Kul Elna.” 

“That’s fucked up, and honestly? I like it.” Ryou blew air from his lips. “I think I can do a nine-tiered diorama. We’ll stack them and play, and after each final event we can unclasp it and move it aside to reveal the next level.” 

“That is going to be a bitch to make.” Bakura grinned. He loved it. 

“I’m ambitious.” Ryou shrugged. “Sure I’ll curse you at 3AM and say it’s all your fault while licking the bottom of the coffee pot, but think of how cool it’ll be when we play.” 

“What are the bosses?” Bakura asked. 

“Should the first one be Atem?” 

Bakura twisted his face. Vague memories bubbled from the back of his mind. A pharaoh’s arms wrapped protectively around him in the afterlife. 

_No. We have to do something. This isn’t right_

“Not Atem,” Bakura said. “Zorc’s Shadow Priest. Make it Ahknadin.” 

“Yes, good, that’s much better. And Zorc will be the last boss. Any suggestions for the other seven?"

"I'll think about it."

They worked until they were hungry, and finished off the pot roast leftovers. Ryou plopped onto the sofa after dinner, watching anime until he dozed against Bakura’s shoulder. Bakura touched Ryou to shake him awake, but couldn’t bring himself to. Ryou’s sleeping face was so restful it seemed a shame to disrupt it. Instead he stacked them together same as before, and fell asleep with his back pressed to Ryou’s chest. 

***

Bakura’s body wracked so hard as he wailed that it was the movement, and not the noise, which woke Ryou. Ryou’s response was instant and sheer reflex. He hooked both arms and legs around Bakura and rocked him on the sofa. 

“Bakura, it’s okay...you’re here with me.” Ryou insisted. 

But Bakura’s sobs didn’t quit. Having not slept through a single night since Bakura’s return, Ryou’s mind drifted, desperate for some way to soothe Bakura and go back to sleep. A lullaby Ryou’s mother sang after nightmares—previously forgotten—sparked in his memory in its entirety. He rocked Bakura and sang.

Bakura’s cries simmered into miserable coos. He sniffed and pushed closer to Ryou...and slept. 

“Thank goodness.” Ryou sighed. He sang the lullaby one more time to make sure Bakura was calm before falling asleep again himself. 

In the morning, he awoke to Bakura buried face-first against Ryou’s chest, his limbs knotted around Ryou. Ryou sucked in a sleepy breath, processing the sensation. He decided it was nice, and he nuzzled the top of Bakura’s head. Bakura, however, woke with a start and tumbled off of the couch. Ryou giggled and sat. 

“There’s that nimble King of Thieves who walks into pillars after evading death traps.” 

“Bite me.” Bakura scratched his scalp. “Gods, I hate not being able to piss without a chaperone.” 

“Yeah, guess we better get the morning drudge over with.” 

“Don’t forget your little play date with Mr. Happy-Friendship-Fuck-Face.” 

Ryou hummed as he swayed to the bathroom. They shoved each other for first go at the toilet, but Ryou was in his usual morning _mood_ , so Bakura harrumphed, and leaned against the wall to wait his turn. It gave Ryou a small sense of satisfaction to have won the spat. After he finished peeing, Ryou jumped into the shower while Bakura pissed.

"Could we both fit?" Bakura glanced at the shower stall while washing his hands.

"That would be weird." Ryou called over the sound of the spray.

"Well, I feel like an idiot standing here and waiting." 

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to keep waiting." Ryou insisted.

They were both naked already. Ryou supposed it wasn't much different than showering in a gym shower, but the _proximity_. Ryou already cuddled Bakura at night. Standing naked in front of him would be too intimate. 

However, Ryou hurried so Bakura didn't have to wait long. He used the hair dryer while Bakura finished. Both dry, they dug through Ryou's clothes. 

"I've never seen so many pastels before." Bakura tossed a shirt over his head. It was peony colored and his damp hair framed the material nicely.

"Looks really good on you," Ryou said.

"Of course you think that. It's your shirt and I resemble you—you vain fuck." 

Ryou hummed. Perhaps that was why Ryou thought Bakura looked great in his shirt, but Ryou had bigger problems than vanity to worry about, such as how he and Bakura were going to get through lunch without causing haunted Burger World rumors. 

Yugi knocked on the door and Ryou rushed to answer it.

"Hey." Yugi gave Ryou a hug.

"What? No loving embrace for me?" Bakura gasped in faux outrage. 

It was going to be such a long afternoon. 

"Are you ready?" Yugi asked.

"Yes, let's get this over with." Ryou waited for them all to exit before locking the door.

Yugi frowned. "If you don't want to go—" 

"Sorry, Yugi. You're not the problem." Ryou held out his hands. "In fact, it's probably better we try this sooner than later. I need to know what I'm getting myself into." 

"Ryou...is this about your imaginary Ring Spirit?" 

"Invisible, not imaginary." Ryou corrected. 

"You know, if something's wrong, we can talk about it. You don't have to play these awful jokes." 

Ryou looked at Bakura as if he were looking at the camera on The Office.

"Wow, Yugi...wow." Bakura crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the elevator doors.

Ryou knew it was safe enough, but the gesture made him nervous. He wished Bakura would switch to a wall instead of the doors. 

"Ryou," Yugi said his name when Ryou didn't respond. 

"It's not a joke." Ryou traced the gold manacle around his wrist. 

"Like the time you told us Mai was dead?" 

"That was a decade ago." 

"What about last month when you used your phone app to convince Jonouchi your bathroom was haunted?"

Bakura tossed his head back in a wicked cackle, and Ryou couldn't hide his grin.

"It's so easy to mess with him. How am I supposed to resist?" 

"How am I supposed to believe an invisible Other Bakura is haunting you?" 

The elevator doors opened. Bakura managed not to fall backward. They left the apartment and walked down the street, congested with lunch traffic. 

"He's not really haunting me. From what Set said, it's more like the witness protection program." 

"So he's finally going to testify against Zorc, is he?" Yugi raised an eyebrow.

"I testify that you all grew up to be a bunch of smartasses." Bakura snorted.

"Set specifically told me not to let Zorc kidnap him." 

"Can't we get a burger like normal friends without having to talk about ghosts, aliens, or Bigfoot?" 

"Yeah, Ryou." Bakura wagged a finger. "Why are you talking about your interests with your friend? Don't you know real friends always do what their leader wants without having their own interests?" 

Ryou gave Bakura an agreeing hum. He understood Yugi was frustrated by the thought of being pranked, but he didn't have to bring Bigfoot into it.

"I still think they're real. There are a lot of forests in the states. Is it so hard to believe a large, unidentified animal exists?" 

"Yes, because if they were real, Seto would have found them and dueled them by now." 

"Damn. He has a point," Bakura said.

Ryou choose the back-most booth. He ordered two burgers and two drinks with one order of fries to split.

"You're expensive," Ryou muttered at Bakura beside him." 

"I could steal some money if you want me to pay." 

"No. Absolutely not."

Yugi rolled his eyes as Ryou talked to "himself." It wasn't until their food arrived and Bakura grabbed his burger that Yugi reacted.

"How'd you do that?" 

"Is his burger floating beside me?" Ryou asked.

"It disappeared." 

"Really?" Ryou turned toward Bakura. "I suppose anything within a certain range of you becomes 'yours' and therefore invisible."

"Good thing, or your clothes would be visible as well." Bakura sipped his drink.

Yugi's eyes darted. "And the soda vanished and reappeared." 

" _It's Bakura_ ," Ryou said.

"Please, if this is a joke, shout _gotcha_ and let it go."

"You know, you're lucky." Ryou sighed as he nibbled his fries. "Bakura actually saw Atem at the Tribunal. He passed a message on to you from the other side. Do you know what I would give? To hear from Amane like that? Would I joke about _that?_ " 

Yugi's mouth dropped. "So...he's…"

"Sitting beside me? Yes." 

"Are you okay?" Yugi reached across the table and grabbed both Ryou's hands.

"Of course I'm okay. I'm not a ghost," Ryou said. "Bakura is the one who's dead."

"But _Bakura's back_." 

"Nothing gets past him, huh?" Bakura chomped into his burger. 

"He's a bit of a pain in the ass, but it's not too bad," Ryou said. 

"Fuck you too," Bakura muttered into his hamburger.

"Actually, it's kinda nice having someone around the house." Ryou hadn't realized how true it was until he said it. "We're working on an RPG. It's just so annoying to go to the bathroom together all the time. Set could have given us a longer chain." 

"I can't imagine." Yugi shook his head. "Is there anything you need? Anything I can do to help?" 

"We're fine, thank you." Ryou finished his burger and grabbed a few fries before Bakura stole them all.

"If you...need help…" Yugi nudged his eyes in Bakura's direction. 

"Subtle." Bakura smirked.

"This wasn't Shadow Magic." Ryou shook his head. "This was a decision the gods made. They wouldn't put me in danger." 

"That's not how you acted when I handed you the cake," Bakura muttered.

Guilt washed over Ryou...then anger. He was sorry that he'd rejected Bakura's genuine act of kindness, but Bakura had to reap what he had sown. 

Though, all-in-all, it was Set's casual statement about Zorc kidnapping Bakura back to the Shadows that worried Ryou. If Zorc really could attempt it, then Ryou and Bakura were both in danger despite what he told Yugi. Ryou asked Yugi about his upcoming trip and changed the subject.


	5. Chapter 5

"It could have gone worse." Bakura sat at the craft table with graph paper. He mapped out the final floor plan of the first level.

"Other than Yugi suggesting an exorcism, he took it pretty well." Ryou was doing an inventory list of random encounters, mostly skeletons and ghosts for level one.

"Slip some vodka into the holy water. We'll have a great time." Bakura snickered.

Ryou glanced up. "I have vodka."

"Too bad we're fresh out of holy water," Bakura said.

"I have powdered lemonade."

"You can't be serious." Bakura flicked his pencil at Ryou. "You don't even like me, why would you drink with me?"

Ryou caught the pencil and bopped Bakura in the head before handing it back.

"It's not that I don't like you, it's that when you were in the Ring you stabbed me multiple times, used my body like a stolen car, and tried to kill my friends, often." Ryou propped his chin in his hands. "And, although I think you're not quite the same thing that was in the Ring, I can't forget what happened. But, I _want_ to like you."

"While that's all good and valid, it makes a strong case for _not_ exposing ourselves to alcohol."

"It's the comradery." Ryou gestured. "Friends drink together. Think of it as me lowering my guard and making _one last honest attempt_ to trust you."

Bakura examined Ryou's face. He was tempted. He'd never drank with anyone before, never had anyone _he_ could trust.

"What if I'm awful?" Bakura asked. "What if everything in the Ring _was me_ and none of it was Zorc and I get drunk and ruin everything?"

"The fact that you're worried actually encourages me. Before, you would have made it a game to get me drunk and then used it as a way to hurt Yugi somehow."

"Shadow Drinking Games. Damn, why'd we waste our time with cards?" Bakura snickered.

"Have you ever been drunk before?" Ryou asked.

"Sure. Usually from wine I found in tombs." Bakura shrugged.

"Oh, what's it like?"

"What do you mean _what's it like?_ Haven't _you_ been drunk before?"

"No." Ryou shook his head.

"Then why do you have vodka?" Bakura tossed both hands into the air.

"Vodka sauce to go with pasta." Ryou patted his belly.

"Holy fuck. You're such a fucking boy scout. Okay fine." Bakura stood and tugged on their chain. "Let's get you drunk."

"Get _us_ drunk," Ryou said.

"Yes. Gimme your phone." Bakura held out his hand.

"Here." Ryou passed it to him without making a fuss.

Bakura almost grinned when Ryou didn’t protest the use of his phone again, but he repressed it. Instead, he looked up drinking games. While he searched, Ryou stuck his vodka in the freezer and mixed together the lemonade.

“Dragon Ball Z drinking game.”

“Fun!” Ryou leaned closed so he could read over Bakura’s shoulder. “Drink every time you see Mr. Popo, every time they use a special move like the ka-me-ha-me-ha, every time Bulma compliments herself…”

“Drink whenever a character gets owned in battle,” Bakura continued. “Twice if it’s Kirllen. Down the drink if it’s Yamcha—we’re going to die.”

“This is exciting.” Ryou grinned, but his expression became self conscious as he glanced at Bakura. “Right?”

Bakura exhaled through his nostrils, still nervous, still unsure of who he was sober let alone with his defenses removed while drunk. Nevertheless…

“Yeah.” He shrugged, unable to resist the hopeful look on Ryou’s face.

“I’ll spike the whole pitcher and then we can quickly refill our glasses when we need to.” Ryou grabbed ice and the vodka out of the freezer and two glasses from the cupboard. They settled on the sofa. Maybe a little closer than was needed, but Bakura told himself he didn’t want the chain getting in their way as they poured their drinks. Ryou found the show and they watched with their drinks sitting in their hands.

“Weighted clothing’s coming off. Drink.” Ryou downed a good swig.

“Special move. Drink,” Bakura said.

After a few drinks it was easy to relax, sink into the cushions, and enjoy the show. Bakura remembered Ryou watching in highschool, before Bakura could interact with him or use his body. The memory was oddly happy in an otherwise troublesome stretch.

“I’m sorry,” Bakura heard himself muttering.

“Why? Did we miss a drink?” Ryou tilted his head. His eyes were already glassy in a way that told Bakura the alcohol was kicking in for both of them.

“I ruined your life.” Bakura drooped his head down.

“Not ruined. _You_ don’t get to make that call. S’my life.” Ryou shoved Bakura’s shoulder.

“You’re amazing.” Bakura popped his head back up.

“What?” Ryou burst into a fit of laughter. “Are you drunk?”

“Kinda~” Bakura sang.

“Of course you are, or you would have never said that.” Ryou kept laughing.

“No, listen. When my family died, I lost my shit, and...and fucked up my whole life, and tossed everything away, and became Zorc’s bitch, but you—” Bakura shook Ryou’s shoulder, to make sure Ryou understood Bakura was talking about him _specifically_. “You didn’t let it tarnish you.”

“I feel pretty rusty.” Ryou pressed his forehead against Bakura’s.

“But you never cracked, not like me. That’s amazing.”

“I don’t know.” Ryou peeked up so he could look into Bakura’s eyes. “If our situations were completely reversed I don’t know what I would have done. Maybe everything you did.”

“Nah.” Bakura set down his drink and plopped himself into Ryou’s lap. “You’re too good.”

“Quit with the flattery.” Ryou dragged his fingers through Bakura’s hair. Bakura purred.

“Hey, Goku just ka-me-ha-ma-ha’d. We better drink.”

“Yes!” Ryou grabbed his glass and gulped. “I’m going to be a happy drunk, godsdammit. Not a sad one.”

“Yeah!” Bakura agreed, drinking without prompting. “Fuck. This is some tasty shit?”

“I know, right?” Ryou took another drink. “We’re in so much trouble, aren’t we?”

Bakura laughed, filling their glasses in answer. By the time they reached their third and final drink, they weren’t even watching the show. Slumped together, Ryou kept toying with Bakura’s hair.

“Can I braid it?” Ryou asked.

“You know how?”

“Of course. A big brother should know how to braid hair.”

“Lemme finish m’drink.” Bakura chugged the last half of his glass.

“Me too!” Ryou downed his as well.

They slammed their cups on the table at the same time, doubling over in laughter. Bakura rolled onto the floor and scrambled between Ryou’s legs with his back pressed to the sofa. Ryou combed his fingers through Bakura’s hair, sighing.

“Wait, I need a brush.” Ryou jumped up and sprinted for the bathroom.

“Wait!” Bakura scrambled to his feet, but wasn’t fast enough.

Ryou jerked off his feet as the chain yanked him backward. He slammed onto the floor with a loud _ooof_.

“Ryou!” Bakura knelt beside him, grabbing his shoulders.

“Fuck.” Ryou giggled. “I’m such a dumbass.”

“The chain’s a dumbass!” Bakura shouted. “I should...fucking hit it!”

Bakura punched the chain with his unbound fist. The gold was solid, and Bakura jerked his hand to his chest.

“Ow.” Bakura scowled.

“Oh no. Here.” Ryou grabbed Bakura’s hand and kissed the side.

Bakura stared down at him, mouth ajar. Ryou blushed and glanced away.

“What were we doing?”

“I don’t remember. Uh...bathroom break?”

“Good idea. Help me up.” Ryou reached out his hands for Bakura to take.

They stumbled up and swayed down the hallway with an arm wrapped around each other’s shoulders. As Ryou peed, Bakura stared at himself in the mirror, winking and making kissy faces.

“Are you getting the phone number of the cute guy in the mirror?” Ryou asked, nudging Bakura over to wash his hands.

“You bet.” Bakura used the toilet next. The room was spinning, but he was having fun so didn't mind the swaying.

“Hair brush!” Ryou cheered, holding the brush in both his hands. “I’m going to braid your hair!”

“Oh yeah.” Bakura giggled when he remembered the real reason they’d gotten up.

“Let’s go to the bedroom. It’ll be more comfortable.” Ryou pulled at the chain like it was a leash and Bakura followed.

Ryou propped up the pillows and patted the mattress for Bakura to sit. As Ryou brushed Bakura’s hair, Bakura gazed around the room with swaying vision.

“S’nice in here?” He turned his head and Ryou pressed it back to center. “Homey.”

“See? You thought you were awful, but you’re actually funny—and nice!” Ryou flung his arms around Bakura.

Bakura sighed, sinking into Ryou’s embrace. Ryou was warm and wore a light cologne that Bakura really enjoyed. He was going to sit there all night and bury himself deeper into Ryou's touch.

“Imma _plait_ your hair. Like an elf in a fantasy movie!” Ryou declared, grabbing Bakura’s hair and sectioning it into strips.

Bakura’s cheeks burned as Ryou worked. The tugs were...something. Something good and pleasant. Something Bakura couldn’t put into order because his thoughts were swimming in lemonade, but...Ryou should tug his hair more often.

“Fuck, I need bands.” Ryou jumped up again.

“No!” Bakura shouted, grabbing the chain.

“Oh yeah.” Ryou chuckled. “Sorry. I keep forgetting we’re tethered together. This is like Death Note.”

“Like what?”

“We’ll watch it later. Come on. Hair ties.” Ryou swung the chain.

After Ryou gathered clips and bands they were back on the bed. Bakura was fairly sure some hair braiding was even happening _this time_.

“And a diamond...and a diamond...and a diamond…”

“How many diamonds?” Bakura asked.

“Until it’s all the way down.”

“Hey, Ryou?”

“Yeah?”

“If we were alive, what would I do?” Bakura looked around the room, realizing none of it was his.

The only thing he owned in the entire apartment was a little Marowak skull, and he only owned that because Ryou gave it to him. If he was human again, where would he want to live? And do? And what clothes would he buy? And what cologne would he wear? And would he piss off every single person he met, or could someone who _wasn’t_ chained to him be able to stomach him for more than five minutes?

“If _we_ were alive?” Ryou snickered.

“Shhh, you know what I mean.”

“No I don’t, what do you mean what would you do? You’d get drunk with me and let me braid your hair, and we’d play RPGs and pretend to date just to freak out Yugi.”

“Ha! That would be fun. We should do that now. He already accuses you of practical jokes. Prove him right.”

“Next time Yugi wants to hang out, I’ll buy an engagement ring.”

“How are you gonna marry a ghost?” Bakura tried to look over his shoulder, but Ryou boxed his ears in order to keep his head still. Bakura winced.

“At sea. A woman in Britain married a pirate ghost that way.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“It’s true. I saw a news article.”

“At least I know I can get married.” Bakura snorted laughter. “Can’t really do anything else t’have a life the way I am. I mean, how fucking stupid are the gods? They sent me down here to see if I could love without a heart—but no one can interact with me but you!”

“What if it’s like...y’know? One of those twist endings. Like, you save a baby bird who falls out of the nest and love it and then you get to go to Aaru.”

“But do you really love a baby bird? Or do you just save it because you pity it?” Bakura leaned backward against Ryou’s chest.

“I love them.” Ryou snaked his arms around Bakura’s middle and pressed against Bakura’s shoulder. “I know they’re just little birds, but they’re alive, and they’re there, and I love them for existing.”

“I wish I knew what that felt like.” Bakura closed his eyes. “I loved my horse.”

“See? You know how to love after all.” Ryou leaned backward, taking Bakura with him to the pile of pillows.

Bakura suddenly had nothing to say. Ryou seemed to have the same problem. They lay together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. After a moment, Ryou started singing a lullaby. Bakura hummed. It sounded familiar somehow, like something he’d heard in a dream, and it lured him to sleep before he realized he was too drunk to stay awake.

***

Ryou woke up well rested. It took him a few minutes to realize it was because Bakura hadn’t screamed in the middle of the night. He fluttered his eyes open and gazed around. The sunlight slipped through the slats in the blinds, cheery and comforting as it stripped the room. Bakura was dropped on top of Ryou, his hair a beautiful, plaited net. Ryou ran his fingers through the criss-crossing design he’d made the night before.

“You’re awake?” Bakura murmured in a sleepy voice.

“Yes.”

“You never wake up first.”

“I slept well last night. You didn’t wake me.”

“Oh.” Bakura closed his eyes again, as if he were too tired to care about much of anything.

“I hope it wasn’t the liquor. Drinking to sleep would be an awful habit.” Ryou frowned, thinking. He remembered singing Bakura to sleep. Singing was what calmed Bakura the previous night as well. Singing and holding him. "Bakura? Can I try something tonight? Before we go to sleep.”

“Sure.” Bakura nuzzled into Ryou’s chest. “I’m still a little drunk. Go back to sleep.”

“Want me to undo your hair?”

“Nah, leave it.”

“Okay.”

Ryou closed his eyes and rested, enjoying the weight of Bakura crushing him. Eventually they went through their morning routine and Ryou cooked omelettes for breakfast. They drank one cup of coffee each and brought their second cup to the game room.

“Tomorrow we can go to the store and buy any supplies we need for the diorama,” Ryou said.

“I decided the first boss will be Priest Aknadin. Then Shadow Priest Aknadin. And each level down he’ll be more like Zorc until the end.”

“Okay. I’ll make a figure for each boss.” Ryou nodded his head. “I want to make semi-working traps too. Cages and trap doors.”

“You’re going to be so pissed at yourself,” Bakura insisted.

“Yes, but I’ll feel so _satisfied_ once we play and everything is immersive.”

“Bet I can rig some lighting that’s blue toothed to your laptop in order to make it match our light system. Each time the character chooses to brighten or dim the lights, we’ll have the computer adjust it for us.”

“Where did you hear about bluetooth?” Ryou laughed.

“You take forever in the shower, so I’ve been reading gaming forums and some of the crazy things other gamers do for their RPGs.”

“I’m glad you’re smart. I don’t think I could live with a stupid ghost,” Ryou teased.

“You’re in the presence of undead quality with me.” Bakura winked.

“You know, I was thinking, about what you said last night, and if you were alive, I think it’d be easy enough to get you an internship in my department. You’re good at making games, and we always need more help in the art department.”

“I’ll put in my resume immediately.” Bakura smirked.

“Can I take a picture of your hair?” Ryou asked.

It was sudden, but he was staring at Bakura, and it really was gorgeous. Ryou was proud of the work he’d done and wanted to be able to look at it again later.

“If I show up in a photo.” Bakura shrugged.

“Only one way to find out.” Ryou grabbed his cellphone.

Bakura raised his fingers in a “victory” V and stuck out his tongue. Ryou checked the photo and at the very least _he_ could see it. He stood up and took a shot from the side and back as well. He decided to send the first pic to Yugi with a text.

_Can you see him? Or is the screen blank?_

There was no answer, but Ryou wasn't concerned because Yugi was probably getting ready to leave Domino again. He shrugged and pocketed his phone before returning to their game. The day passed by without event. They lost too much time hyperfocusing on their game and then had to rush to the store to buy a few groceries.

"Hey..." Bakura crossed his arms over his chest.

"What's wrong?" Ryou asked.

"Nothing, just...since you're cooking, maybe...I could do the laundry."

"You don't have to." Ryou's cheeks grew hot.

"I'll just get bored, and I'm tired of looking at your phone, and—just let me get the stupid hamper so this doesn't become another stupid argument. Fucking hell."

"Okay. Okay. You can win this one," Ryou teased. 

They fetched the hamper, and Ryou played music as he cooked and Bakura did the laundry. Ryou couldn’t help smiling each time he glanced at Bakura scowling while matching socks. Yes it was stupid and domestic, but Ryou enjoyed it. Also, that Bakura was trying to help...it meant a lot to Ryou, in a way that made his chest hurt a little. After dinner, they spent the rest of their evening playing video games until Ryou yawned.

"Guess I better get some sleep." Ryou stood and led the way to their room. 

“Weren’t you going to do something?” Bakura asked as Ryou changed into his pajamas. He himself wore boxers and a t-shirt.

“Yes.” Ryou lay on the bed and opened his arms. “Come here.”

“Uh...I know we got cuddly last night because we were drunk, but is this necessary?” Bakura dug his toe into the bedroom carpet.

“We wake up cuddling every morning anyway.” Ryou rolled his eyes.

“You do that when I’m asleep,” Bakura said.

“I’m not going to kiss you. I just want to see if we both sleep better this way.” Ryou laughed off the causal statement, though the hairs on the nape of his neck prickled. Perhaps it wasn’t the best joke. Bakura was already spooked about the touching.

“Dumbass. Whatever.” Bakura crawled onto the bed and belly flopped on top of Ryou.

“Not like that, you dork!” Ryou grunted at Bakura’s sudden weight.

“Ha, you asked for it.”

“I’m doing this for _you_.” Ryou booped Bakura’s nose.

“Me?” Bakura wrinkled his nose in response. “Are you my therapy dog?”

“You didn’t wake up screaming last night. I’m hoping if I hold you and sing to you—you’ll sleep again tonight.”

“I was drunk last night,” Bakura protested. “Of course I slept.”

“You said you’d try it. Come on, if it doesn’t work, we know it was the booze.”

“And if it does work?”

“Even if you sleep tonight, we’d have to try another night apart to make sure that it actually makes a difference.” Ryou shrugged. “So at least you know I won’t try to cuddle with you tomorrow.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Bakura shifted until he was comfortable. “Work your voodoo.”

“O-okay.”

Once Bakura was in his arms, Ryou found himself nervous. It was one thing to grab Bakura and sing to him drunk, or in an exhausted, desperate blurr, but to do so _deliberately_? He understood why Bakura hesitated; it was far too intimate. Ryou’s voice trembled as he sang. After two times, the lullaby was a little repetitive, so he sang an old pop song for variety.

“Very romantic.”

“Ugh, this was a mistake.” Ryou pushed Bakura away. “Let’s just play music on the phone. Maybe that’ll do the trick.”

“That’s actually a good idea.” Bakura stole Ryou’s phone and picked from his playlists.

They settled on opposite sides of the bed, not intentionally far apart, but not too close either. Ryou closed his eyes, the music kept him awake for a bit, but he managed to go to sleep without much struggle.


	6. Chapter 6

Bakura gasped, but his airways were swollen shut. He thrashed in the darkness, a thousand needles slithering in his veins and tearing away whatever was left of him. 

**Did you think you could escape?**

A thick, heavy laugh. 

**Did you think the gods could save you when I’ve already laid my claim?**

He couldn’t scream because his tongue was as swollen as his throat. His chest burned. The panic closed in on him. 

Ryou's soft voice cut through the pitch. The melody coiled around Bakura like a golden chain, yanking him from the Shadows. He woke up gasping in Ryou's arms. Ryou curled closer and ran his fingers through Bakura's hair. 

Bakura screamed at himself to quit being pathetic and breathe. The fact that he even needed to breathe as a ghost pissed him off. He lay limp in Ryou's arms, forcing himself to inhale as Ryou's song continued to surround him like a hug. 

Exhausted from his experience in the Shadows, Bakura passed out. In the morning, same as every morning, he only had vague memories of what happened or why he was tangled in Ryou's arms.

Ryou lay with his face half-buried into his pillow. Exhaustion creased his brow as he slept. Bakura crossed his arms over his chest. He hated that he was dependent on Ryou each night. He hated that it wore Ryou down. He hated that he couldn't get up and do anything because they were chained together.

He grabbed Ryou's cell phone and saw a text from Yugi. 

_Is that really him? He looks…happy?_

Bakura stared at his picture. He _did_ look happy. It was horrible.

"Stupid vodka," Bakura cursed under his breath as he swyped a reply.

_I was being ironic with that smile._

A moment later, Yugi responded.

_...Is this Bakura?_

_😈_

_You better not do ANYTHING to upset Ryou_

_This isn’t like before. I didn’t ASK for this,_ Bakura frowned as he replied. 

_Yeah, I’m sure it’s a huge inconvenience for *you*_

_Go fuck yourself. We’re playing Monster World and don’t have time for you._

Bakura dropped the phone behind the mattress to the floor. It thunked and Ryou jerked awake. 

“It’s okay—you’re safe…” He reached out and pulled Bakura closer out of reflex. 

“It’s 11AM,” Bakura said. 

“Oh.” Ryou rubbed his face. “I’m up. I’m up.” 

Bakura’s hand twitched. He buried the urge to cup Ryou’s face. Bakura _did_ have a sense of justice. He _always had_ , and he knew it wasn’t just for Ryou to be responsible for him every night...but he didn’t know how to fix it. 

“Are you okay?” Ryou cupped Bakura’s face instead of the other way around. 

It shocked him. His eyes jerked toward Ryou’s tender gaze. His lips parted, wanting to say something but unsure of _what_. Instead, he traced the pad of his thumb along the circles darkening beneath Ryou’s eyes. 

“Listen, I won’t tease you tonight. We’ll try the stupid cuddling thing before bed. I’m sure it’ll be so nauseating that Zorc won’t come near me in my sleep.” 

“It’s memories, right? From when you were trapped in the Shadow Realm?” A tick in Ryou’s eye fluttered beneath Bakura’s thumb. 

Bakura turned away. “I don’t think they’re memories.” 

“So...you mean…” 

“You drive him away.” Bakura stared at his arms. 

Bakura touched the porcelain blue veins mapping out beneath his skin. He was surprised there was enough left for Zorc to absorb. Surely he’d stolen everything by now. 

“Bakura. I’m sorry.” Ryou twisted his arms around Bakura. 

“Why?” 

“Listen, I don’t care how awful you were before. No one deserves to be...eaten every night.” Tears dripped down Ryou’s cheeks. “ _You don’t deserve this._ ” 

“Hey.” Bakura brushed the tears away from Ryou’s cheeks. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m here…” His gaze somehow drifted to Ryou’s lips. “With you...the Shadows never bother us during the day.” 

“You’re right.” Ryou nodded. A nervous giggle slipped past his lips. “Sorry, I’m sleep deprived. Let’s just skip the shower and eat junk food while we work on our RPG, okay?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Bakura winked. 

***

After dinner, Bakura played video games while Ryou napped on the couch. He woke up swaying as Bakura carried him down the hall. 

“Why are you carrying me?” Ryou mumbled, more asleep than awake. 

“It’s time for bed,” Bakura said. 

“You don’t have to do this. I can walk.” Ryou yawned. 

“It’s fine.”

He settled Ryou beneath the covers and pressed against him, laying his head on Ryou’s chest. Ryou sighed and bent to kiss the crown of his head before realizing what he was doing and stopping himself. 

“I know you don’t like this, but—”

“It’s fine.” Bakura shook his head. “Who cares. I’ve been through worse.”

 _Much worse_ , Ryou thought. 

It amazed him how strong Bakura was. He walked around each day like he was fine, despite the horrors of facing Zorc at night. Ryou curled around him protectively. No more. He wasn’t going to let Zorc _near_ Bakura another night. 

_He’s mine_. 

Ryou couldn’t help the thought. It wasn’t exactly accurate. Bakura was a stray cat who came around for food and sometimes sat near your feet but would bite you if you patted his head more than twice. But the gods connected them, so at the very least Bakura was Ryou’s responsibility. 

“I don’t even know why I complain,” Bakura whispered, near asleep. “This is pretty comfortable.” 

“You know, _I_ don’t mind cuddling.” Ryou grinned into Bakura’s hair. 

“Even with me?” Bakura snorted. 

“You’re not stupid.” Ryou tugged at his hair. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

It means…” Ryou sighed, settling closer to Bakura’s body heat. “I could get used to this.” 

“Oh.”

He didn’t elaborate. Leave it to Bakura to have a monologue ready for any card game, but when Ryou would have _liked_ a bit of a response… silence. Ryou decided if Bakura didn’t want to communicate with words, perhaps actions would suffice, so he smoothed his fingers along Bakura’s arms and danced them just beneath the sleeve of his shirt. Bakura’s breath hitched, but he tried to swallow the sound of it. 

Ryou hummed. His fingers never stopped. Each gentle brush conveying a strong and simple message: you’re wanted here. 

That night, Bakura did not scream in his sleep. 

***

“And sand. So much sand. I swore I’d never do a diorama with this much sand again after the one at the museum, but ten years was enough time for me to forget how damn _heavy_ it is.” 

“These damn levels are already bigger than we originally planned for. It’s going to take both of us to remove each one.” 

“At least it should take a day for each level, so we won’t have to do them all at once.” Ryou sighed. “This is only worth it because this is our best work. I’m so excited, I’m freaking out a little.” 

“Got your character yet?” Bakura asked. 

“I’m trying to decide what job class. I’ve done everything.” 

“Make your own.” Bakura shrugged. “We’ve already strayed far enough away from Monster World that we don’t need to do their job classes.” 

“What are you going to be? A thief?” 

“How cliché.” Bakura smirked. 

“If not a thief, then what?” 

Bakura averted his eyes. He grabbed his notebook and flipped to a certain page, handing it to Ryou. Ryou read the title.

“Oh. A tomb builder.” He lifted his gaze to study Bakura despite Bakura looking away. 

“I modified some tools as weapons, and there was actually a lot of lore the village knew which would be useful as a character, and decent magic—I kept it balanced, but you should go over it because you know I’m a cheat.” Bakura scratched around the gold clasping his wrist. 

“This is...so cool!” Ryou dropped the notebook and attacked Bakura in a hug. 

Bakura _ooofed_ as Ryou crashed into him. He looked like a kitten who’d fallen into a full bath tub after investigating too closely. Ryou pinched both his cheeks, laughing. 

“I’m going to be a gaming master, then. If Setzer can use magical dice for attacks, why can’t I? And I can have some distraction and escape skills? I’ll have to think about it, but making a new class is going to be exciting.” 

“ _Heh_.” Bakura’s cheeks glowed red.

They’d stood that close countless times. Ryou wasn’t quite sure what was so different...why Bakura blushed so much, why time was slowing down as Ryou stared into Bakura’s eyes. Why they were leaning closer together until their mouths…

Ryou’s breath puffed from his nose as their bottom lips graced together. Bakura tilted his head and Ryou made another pass. With a grunt, Bakura shoved Ryou backward. He crashed into the diorama, sand grinding into his hair and beneath his shirt. 

“Bakura...what the fuck?” 

“I...I have to...stand...over here for a bit—alone.” Bakura rushed out of the room. 

The chain curved around the door frame, but Bakura stayed out of sight. Ryou dusted himself off and sat in the sand, his stomach heavy. 

“I’m sorry,” Ryou said loud enough for his voice to carry into the hallway. 

Bakura didn’t answer. It frightened Ryou. Ryou understood when Bakura was sarcastic, angry, avoidant, sarcastic, grumpy, even more sarcastic—but silent?” 

“Bakura?” 

Nothing. 

“Bakura, say _anything_.” 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say!” Bakura shouted from the hallway. 

“If it was unwanted…” Ryou held his stomach as acid burned up his esophagus. “I won’t do it again.” 

“Ryou, I’m dead!” Bakura screamed. 

“Oh, is _that_ the only thing bothering you?” Ryou sighed, relieved. 

“The _only thing_?” Bakura popped his head around the door. “It’s a pretty big fucking deal!” 

“Is it really?” Ryou made a face. “Let’s be frank, neither one of us are surprised I kissed a ghost.” 

“What if the gods take me back?” Bakura’s face collapsed. 

“Why would they?” Ryou asked. 

“I don’t know...because they’re assholes?”

Ryou snorted; he couldn’t argue. His scalp itched because of the sand. He gave Bakura a sheepish look. 

“Uh, not to make this more awkward, but...you got sand all over me—” 

“Yes. Shower. Yes. My fault for being a dick and shoving you.” Bakura buried his face in his hands. 

“Hey, you’re getting really good at admitting when you make a mistake.” Ryou offered a smile, hoping to break some of the tension. 

“I’m staying in the hallway. You should be able to reach everything.” Bakura paced, but only a few steps each way because there wasn’t much slack in their chain. 

“Okay...I really am sorry.” 

“Stop it,” Bakura hissed. 

Ryou let it go. He allowed the shower stream to pour over him. If only it could wash away the tension humming in his body. That night was worse. Bakura lay pressed against Ryou and rested his head on Ryou’s chest as they did every night. It’d been a month and not once had Bakura had night terrors since they changed the way they slept, but now...Ryou wanted to kiss Bakura as Bakura lay in his arms. 

“Can you lay on your side?” Ryou asked, his body tense. 

“You okay?” Bakura turned onto his side, facing Ryou. 

“I just want…” 

_To kiss you._

“To sleep on my side.” 

But the way Bakura lay had them face-to-face, the exact opposite of what Ryou needed. He twirled his finger in a cyclone. 

“Not like this, the other way.” 

“Why?” Bakura smirked, lids lowering. “Is my mouth too close?”

In his youth, perhaps Ryou would have blushed and reacted shyly at the Spirit’s obvious signalling. But Ryou had been through a lot, and he was far too used to Bakura trying to get something with one hand while shoving away with the other, so Ryou pushed on Bakura’s top shoulder. 

“Are you going to work with me so we can sleep, or are you going to harass me about the kiss? Choose your answer _carefully_.” 

“Just trying to lighten the mood.” Bakura rolled onto his other side. “Better?” 

“Yes. Thank you.” Ryou held Bakura to his chest. 

“Oh yes, this is _much less personal_. Brilliant.” Bakura rolled his ass against Ryou’s crotch. “Nothing can _possibly_ go wrong with this plan while we sleep.” 

“I’m going to grab this chain and swing it around your neck.” Ryou clenched his teeth and gripped the chain as if to make good on his threat. 

“Oh no. Help. The cream puff is going to strangle my dead ass. However will I survive?” Bakura said in a monotone voice. 

“If you don’t want to be kissed, don’t grind against me,” Ryou snapped. 

“I never said I didn’t _want it_ ; I said I _was dead_.” 

“And I said that didn’t bother me.”

“But Ma’at said she wanted to see if I’d learn how to love!” Bakura’s voice rose to a panic. 

Ryou lay still. In front of him, Bakura’s shoulders hunched, tense and worried. Careful, Ryou reached out and rested his unbound hand on Bakura’s shoulder. Bakura flinched, but didn’t slap Ryou’s hand. 

“Is that why you think the gods might take you back?” 

Bakura shoved his face in his pillow and muffled a brief shout. Ryou rolled onto his back. The manacle around his wrist was second-place now. It never itched or felt heavy against his tendons. Ryou fumbled for the chain and smoothed the gold links against the pad of his thumb. 

“If it happens. It happens,” Ryou said. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Your soul being _safe_ is more important than you staying here.” 

“I. Want. To. Play. Our. Game.” Bakura grit his teeth. 

“So do I.” Ryou curved against Bakura again. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.” 

“You can’t promise that.” 

“You know…” Ryou changed the subject. “I’m flattered that you’re worried about falling in love with me.” 

“Kiss my ass, you vain son-of-a-bitch.” 

“I should tell Yugi, I think your text messages are turning his hair grey.” 

“He keeps saying dumb shit to you, of course I’m going to snark him.” 

“Asking if I’m okay isn’t dumb.” Ryou laughed. He locked his arms around Bakura like a seatbelt. 

“It is when there’s the blatant implication that you might not be because I’m here. This is _obviously_ not like last time.” 

“No, this is wonderful.” Ryou sighed. Silence rang in the air for a moment before Ryou spoke again. “I got my new assignment, so I’m going back to work soon.” 

“When?” 

“Next week, but I think we can finish the diorama before then. There won’t be too much to do when we get started, the overtime usually piles up closer to the deadline. We should have plenty of time to play after work.” 

“Guess I’m sitting on your desk while you work.” 

“You’re going to be the cutest rubber duck ever.” Ryou grinned. 

“What?” 

“Something I can complain to when I’m stuck in order to figure out where the problem is.” 

“Yeah, I have plenty of experience listening to you bitch.” Bakura snorted. 

“Shut up, or I’ll make you shut up,” Ryou threatened. 

“Oh yeah?” Bakura spun around to face Ryou again. “How?”

“Like...this.” Ryou booped Bakura’s nose. 

“You bastard.” Bakura jerked the other way again. 

Ryou spooned again him, sighing and trying to sleep. The nape of Bakura’s neck was _right there_ for Ryou’s lips to decorate with kisses. Bakura would roll around and Ryou could shut him up the way he really wanted. Life was always unfair to Ryou, but _this_ warranted a strongly worded letter to the gods. He didn’t know if they’d read it anymore than Amane ever read her letters, but Ryou was going to give them a strong talking to all the same. 

***

Without the Shadows draining his soul each night, Bakura remembered who he’d been as the Thief King. The broken, angry, lashing out at everyone and everything King of Thieves—but he’d also remembered other personality quarks. He really did love animals, horses, dogs, snakes, he loved all of them, even insects! As a child he’d carry around his father’s tools, so proud that he’d grow up to decorate the tombs like his papa. Obviously this was before he learned the village had to steal to eat, but Bakura had been a very loyal three year old before that realization. And he enjoyed sunsets because they were colorful, he enjoyed painting, he loved savory herbs crusting sizzling meat over a fire. He’d been prissy even as a child, and as an adult was careful to shave and groom and bathe often—he never fenced the perfumes or kohl jars he stole from the tombs. He kept and used them. He’d liked it when they’d gotten drunk and Ryou braided his hair because it looked nice. 

Bakura opened his eyes. Ryou was glued to him, and yes, Ryou’s morning wood _was_ poking in the cleft of Bakura’s ass just as Bakura knew it would be. Bakura swallowed, resisting the urge to nudge against Ryou and start something. 

_He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t._

Because at the end of the day, Bakura was _passionate_. He’d only ever focused said passion for vengeance before, but if he allowed himself to slip... 

There was no way the gods would let him stay. He’d kiss Ryou, and hold him, and offer himself to Ryou like a sacrifice, and in the morning the manacles would drop from their wrists and Anubis would steal Bakura away, like a bottle of perfume. It was ironic and Bakura hated it. 

And what would happen to Ryou? He wasn’t the type to fall in love easily—or recover from it once he did. If Bakura left, Ryou would be alone. Abandoned by another loved one. Alone. Bakura suspected it would hurt Ryou more than any stabbing or manipulation _could_. Bakura laced his fingers with Ryou’s. He couldn’t ever let Ryou hurt again, especially not like that. So, despite Bakura having to constantly repress every greedy, selfish, intense impulse in his body, he _only_ held Ryou’s hand, and refused to move in any other way. 

“Morning.” Ryou exhaled and nuzzled into Bakura’s hair. 

“‘Bout time you woke up,” Bakura whispered. 

Bakura was going for grumpy, but the words were soft enough to be _I love you_. It terrified Bakura. What if he held back and the gods took him anyway because it was so obvious? Ryou would still suffer and Bakura wouldn’t even have the chance to explain _why_. 

“I know. We need to build our characters today and finish pouring all that god awful sand into the first four tiers of our diorama.” 

“I _suppose_ we could eat breakfast before we start.” Bakura grinned. 

“You’re too kind.” Ryou chuckled. 

“Never been accused of that before.” 

“No, I’m sure you haven’t…” Ryou paused. “I’m sorry, did I grab your hand in my sleep?” 

“It’s fine.” Bakura stared down at their interlocked hands. 

He knew his un-truth was the same as a lie. He knew he shouldn’t have let Ryou assume _he_ had locked their fingers together. Even now Bakura refused to let go until Ryou sat and pulled his hand away. Bakura bit the inside of his cheek to keep from protesting. He wanted to bring Ryou’s hand to his lips and kiss his knuckles. He wanted to face Ryou and beg to be kissed again like the day before. The brief swipe of their lips sent lightning through Bakura’s entire body. He felt like the creature from one of Ryou’s old monster movies: the dead one who’d been given life from a lightning bolt in a science lab. Bakura didn’t know how he’d make it through the day. 

“Well? Get up already.” Ryou tugged at their chain to encourage Bakura out of bed. 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tug.” 

“You’re the one who wants to be awake. Don’t grumble because we actually have to get out of bed.” Ryou nudged Bakura with his elbow. “Don’t worry, I’ll make coffee.” 

Bakura grunted, resisting the urge to bury his face into Ryou’s hair. He did slump over Ryou’s shoulder as he made them breakfast, however. Ryou tolerated his weight until it was time for them to sit down and eat. Ryou flashed Bakura a mischievous look. Bakura smirked. He barely had time to stand when Ryou raced into the craft room to grab his gaming laptop and bring it to the table. 

“Warn me next time. You almost ripped my hand off.” Bakura snorted. 

“You knew what I was after.” 

“I do appreciate when a man goes for what he’s after.” Bakura studied his nails as if he weren’t flirting at the breakfast table. 

Ryou snorted, but otherwise ignored Bakura. They relocated to the craft room and Bakura worked out the last details to his character while Ryou finished dumping sand into the first four tiers. After that, the shadows were too thick for a “floor” so they didn’t need to fill them. Ryou’s 3D printer had been humming for days while other models’ glue dried. Once they had the foundation lain, they were able to arrange the buildings and mazes for each separate level. 

“You think we can get this done by tomorrow?” Bakura asked. 

“If we keep drinking coffee we can.” Ryou grinned. 

“Thought you liked tea?” Bakura teased. 

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for our game.” Ryou shrugged. 

“In that case, let’s get a second pot going.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it took awhile to get them started, but things escalated at the pace you'd expect from a Sitafic(tm)

Ryou yawned, then he yawned again. Bakura displayed his arms wide to showcase the nine tiers of gaming masterpiece they’d worked on the entire day.

“Ta-fucking-da!”

“It’s gorgeous.” Ryou smoothed his hands over the border of the first tier.

“We better stack these bitches so they’ll be ready for us in the morning.”

Ryou nodded, but had to stifle another yawn behind his hand. The 9th tier remained on the floor. The border was a foot deep. They had lined it and all the other sections with a KaibaCorp branded material which was darker than Vantablack. It almost hurt to stare at, especially as strained and exhausted as Ryou’s eyes were. On top of it, they set the 8th tier. The board was only half as deep and covered with regular black paint. Each level lightened, to charcoal and sable, to misty blue and black, to indigo and violet. When the final tier was set in place, their tower stood slightly higher than table height.

“We’re going to play the hell out of this tomorrow, but first…” He slumped into Bakura’s arms.

“Yeah...it’s 4AM.” Bakura chuckled as he held Ryou.

“I need a little sleep or I won’t be able to…” A yawn interrupted Ryou’s sentence.

“Exactly. Let’s go to bed.”

“Carry me.” Ryou giggled, leaning heavily into Bakura’s side.

“I can drag you by the chain.” Bakura pressed their foreheads together.

Ryou closed his eyes, enjoying their proximity. His thoughts swirled in a sleepy spiral, more around his head than inside of it. Bakura combed his fingers through Ryou's hair and Ryou's sucked in a deep breath.

"I'm falling asleep on my feet, aren't I?"

"Yup. Look at all the drool." Bakura wiped Ryou's chin.

"Liar." Ryou slapped Bakura's hand and giggled.

They slung their arms around each other and stumbled to the bedroom. Neither of them were awake enough to walk straight.

"How do you want me?" Bakura murmured in Ryou's ear.

"On your back." Ryou smirked.

"I meant—"

Ryou shoved Bakura onto his back and crawled on top of him, locking their gazes.

"I didn't stutter."

The lust and gay panic in Bakura's eyes was divine. Ryou grinned. It felt lopsided and tired on his face, but Bakura seemed enamored. Slowly, Ryou pressed their noses together.

"G'night, 'Kura." Ryou dropped on top of Bakura and used his chest as a pillow.

Bakura groaned, but didn't say anything. Instead, he returned to stroking Ryou's hair. Ryou fell asleep to the gentle caresses. And in the morning when he woke, it was to Bakura’s hushed prayer.

“ _Please don’t take me away from him. Please you selfish bastards I haven’t asked for a single thing since that night and you didn’t help me then so stay out of my after-life now.”_

“B’kura…” Ryou mumbled.

“It’s only 10:30, you can sleep a little longer if you want to.”

Ryou curled his arms around Bakura’s neck. Ryou could almost sink into Bakura, allow them to share a body again like they once had.

“It’s okay,” Ryou whispered against Bakura’s chest.

“Go back to sleep,” Bakura whispered.

“I am.”

But he didn’t. He squeezed Bakura and sighed against him. He racked his brain for something comforting to say that Bakura could believe, but in the end could only hold him until it was time for them to wake.

“It’s game day,” Ryou said during breakfast. _This_ , he knew Bakura would enjoy.

“Fuck yeah.” Bakura drummed his fingers on the table.

“Let me make lunch now because you know once we get started, we’re not stopping.”

Bakura nodded his head. He refilled their coffee while Ryou packed a few sandwiches in a tupperware container to keep them from going stale. Finished, they glanced at each other before racing to the extra room. They hit the doorway at the same time and shoved at each other to be the first one across the threshold.

Ryou leaned close and gave Bakura a quick peck on the cheek.

“You dirty cheater!” Bakura slapped his cheek as Ryou dashed inside.

“You taught me to win at any cost.” Ryou grinned.

“Don’t learn things from me; I’m an idiot.” Bakura snorted, but he was smiling.

Their characters stood side by side. A little tomb builder wrapped in scarlet robes and messenger bags for his tools, and a “game master” who wore court clothing. They didn’t worry about historical accuracy, instead focusing on aesthetics.

“Our heroes arrived at the place of their birth. They hadn’t seen the village since before the tragedy and the stark image of the ruins tear through them. The wind picks up, swirling dust around them, and from the sands rise the dead.” Bakura rolled for the number of skeletons they’d fight. The first few battles were scripted.

Bakura arranged six skeletons in front of their characters. Ryou winced, he was hoping they’d be able to warm up, maybe clock in a level before they had to deal with a bigger battle. They rolled for initiative and Ryou crit, but Bakura rolled a fumble.

“The gods...fucking...hate...me…” Bakura whispered into Ryou’s ear.

Ryou shivered at the tickle of Bakura’s breath. His voice always had a way of being sultry, and it wasn’t until Bakura tossed the dice at Ryou’s head that he was able to refocus.

“Gonna start us off?” Bakura gestured to the skeletons.

“I’d love too,” Ryou said as a double entendre.

“I bet you would,” Bakura purred, catching Ryou’s implication.

Ryou used long distance attacks so he could keep away from the enemies. He still took 3 damage from a stray arrow from one of the two archers. When it was Bakura’s turn, he marched into the center of the fray and used his melee skills to shatter one of the skeletons—at the cost of taking heavy damage on his next turn.

“Bakura, neither one of us have early level healing spells, please stay alive long enough for us to beat the first battle.”

“I have herbs and a high constitution. I'll be fine.” Bakura waved off Ryou’s concern.

Despite his bravado, it took five rounds for them to defeat all the skeletons, and afterward Bakura's HP was so low that, had they been fighting in real life, Ryou would have been stuck bandaging every inch of Bakura’s body.

“Should I go grab the first aid kit so we can LARP this part?” Bakura teased.

“I don’t think you could stay in character. You'd flirt too much.” Ryou grabbed Bakura’s manacled wrist and smoothed his fingers where the gold bound his skin.

“Bitch, you know I can stay in character. Who’s to say our characters don’t flirt?”

“Oh do they? We did make them childhood friends in their backstory. Perhaps you’re right.” Ryou grinned, fingers still caressing Bakura’s skin.

“I think those are enough bandages, game master,” Bakura said, speaking for his character. 

“Excuse me, but I’ll say what’s enough healing. After all, who has the higher wisdom stat?”

“Ha! I do!” Bakura shoved his character sheet at Ryou.

“Oh dammit, my character is based on charisma. I’m so used to playing a white wizard that I forgot. Very well. You are healed.” Ryou chuckled.

“Those skeletons have me wary. I want to scan for traps and further ambushes.” Bakura rolled and managed to disable the nearest trap before they were pincer-attacked by angry spirits.

This time Bakura tried out his early level traps, and the sigils were able to knock out most of the ghosts in their first round. They rolled lucky on loot, receiving three mana potions and a loaf of bread which would restore their ba when they reached the darker levels.

“This time I’ll search for traps, you set up some of your own,” Ryou said.

Knowing the layout of the village and the first three battles only helped them so much. They made sure many of the game mechanics involved luck, including traps so that they couldn’t avoid them from memory. A few unlucky rolls left them weak and frustrated as they fought Aknadin.

“We _can_ retreat if we need to,” Ryou reminded Bakura.

“No fuck this bastard. Fuck the gods-damned-fucking-son-of-a-whore—I should have killed him instead of wasting my time with the Pharaoh!”

The dice spun from Bakura’s hand. 00. Super critical. Bakura planted his chisel into Priest Aknadin’s forehead, splitting open his skull.

Yes, a real chisel from that period would have been copper and soft, but _aesthetic_. Bakura's weapon was high carbon steal. They didn’t want history. History murdered your family and hid the evidence and called you a thief and proclaimed your tragedy was _right_. No, they didn’t want history, the wanted satisfaction, even if only in their hearts and nowhere else.

“Fuck yes!” Bakura jumped up and punched the air when Priest Aknadin died.

The chain jangled around him as he celebrated.

"An excellent end to our first boss." Ryou stood as well,stretching.

Bakura flung his arms around Ryou, knocking the wind out of him. Ryou released a breathless laugh and locked his arms around Bakura in return. They held together for too long, and Ryou brushed his nose along Bakura's cheek, angling their mouth far too close together. 

***

Bakura swore he wouldn't kiss Ryou. He vowed not to kiss Ryou. He lassoed the chain around them and held them close as he dove into a deep, lingering kiss. Ryou tugged at his end of the chain, pulling them tighter together. He dabbed his tongue across Bakura’s lips and, eager, Bakura opened his mouth so Ryou could taste him. Before his brain could panic and tell Bakura to stop, Ryou already had Bakura shoved against the wall. Ryou pinned Bakura with his body and used their chain to bind Bakura in place while their mouths sucked kiss after kiss after kiss from each other. Bakura moaned, returning each kiss as if they could bring him back to life. 

“Ryou…” Bakura uttered his former host’s name as Ryou sucked the side of his neck.

Bakura shut his eyes. This time he wanted to be the vessel. He wanted Ryou to take control of him and _fill_ him until he had no breath—his dead lungs shouldn’t have been able to breathe anyway. But gods-fucking-dammit Ryou made him feel alive, made his heart race, made him sweat and tremble.

None of it seemed right. How could sweat prick at the nape of a ghost's neck? How could his heartbeat drum in his ears and make him gasp? 

Bakura opened his eyes, and what he saw made all the thoughts fly out of his head. His entire body stiffened, panic and adrenaline flooded through him. His fingers dug into Ryou’s shoulders.

“Ryou.”

This time the name wasn’t uttered in ecstasy, but deep, raw fear. Ryou jerked back, sensing the difference in Bakura’s body language and tone. He turned around and followed Bakura’s gaze to the diorama where their Aknadin figurine floated above the board, dripping real blood from a crack in its forehead.

“Of course. Of course Zorc would find a way to use our game against us.” Ryou swallowed.

“Not to re-traumatize myself by burning my village or anything, but let’s douse the entire thing in gasoline and torch it before we get sucked into the game.”

However, it was too late. In the span of a heartbeat they were in the secret chamber and in front of the Millennium Tablet where their boss battle had taken place. Aknadin was in his mummified form, blood still gushing from Bakura’s chisel would.

Bakura glanced at himself and saw the costume he’d carefully designed for his character wrapped around his body. Ryou was gorgeous in sheer linen, malachite, and turquoise. With a groan, The Millennium Tablet sank into the earth and darkness rose from the hole like a fog. The blackness reached out towards them. 

“No. We’re not playing a Shadow Game. We refuse.” Ryou’s jaw was set in a hard line.

"I'm not giving you a choice." The dried corpse opened his jaw, a raspy, dead laughter echoed in the chamber.

Bakura felt a _pull_. He dug his feet into the floor, but was dragged toward the pit in the ground. Bakura clawed at the floor, but couldn't get purchase.

"No!" Ryou pulled at their chain, but instead of pulled Bakura closer, her was being dragged to hell with Bakura. 

Bakura reached for his chisel, ready to chop his wrist off before he'd let Ryou suffer as he had in the Shadows, but he didn't have enough time. The pit swallowed him, and Ryou, bound to him with Set’s golden chain, followed. They crashed together in the sand dunes. Gazing around, they saw the second tier of their diorama surrounding them like a virtual reality simulation.

“Well. At least we don’t have to move each level now. I suppose that’s something.” Ryou stood and brushed himself clean.

“Fuck.” Bakura clenched his teeth.

“We know how this works. Our only chance of survival is beating Zorc in a game he’ll cheat at, but _we’re_ better than him, and we’ll fucking send him back to the Shadows _writhing in pain_.”

“You’re so sexy when you’re angry.” Bakura checked his bags. All their supplies were with them. It was something.

“Didn’t you say you wanted our characters to flirt?” Ryou smiled. It was his brave smile. The one he used when he was faking.

“So how we gonna play?” Bakura asked.

“More light, less danger,” Ryou said.

“Still risky. We might not have enough energy for Zorc.”

“Regardless of how we play, he’ll make damn sure we’re exhausted by the time we face him. Our only chance is to play smarter, not harder.”

“You scan for traps and ambushes. I’ll set up a few initial defenses.”

“Right.” Ryou nodded.

They were in the desert. The sky was dark as if it were night, but this was the most basic level of the Shadow Realm. They needed to search out the second Kul Elna and defeat Aknadin in his full Shadow Priest form and then rinse and repeat until they reached Zorc on the 9th level.

“Over there. We’ll be able to take shelter in that cave. Trap the hell out of it first so nothing can surprise us while we rest.”

“On it.” Bakura took a kohl stick and drew several traps and defenses spells around their camp.

“We should be close to level 3,” Ryou said.

“Cap at 20, two levels a layer leaves us at 18, so we'd better do any side quests we come across to see if we can max out before the final battle.”

“If there _are_ any side quests in this version. It’s not like Zorc read our gaming notes.”

“Shadow Games have a way of forcing accuracy, but…” Bakura frowned. “I can’t really remember much of what we planned.”

“Shit. Neither can I.” Ryou used a “camping kit” to start a fire and lay blankets around the blaze. “The Shadow Magic is in our heads—I did not miss this, by the way.”

“I know.” Bakura lay in his own blanket.

“Bakura, please…don’t make me sleep alone.” Ryou frowned.

“Put your blanket on top.” Bakura held open his arms, waiting for Ryou to enter them.

They clung to each other, neither willing to admit the fear twisting their bowels as they huddled together.

***

Ryou’s sleep was bliss. He forgot everything except the warm body in his arms. Cozy and peaceful, Ryou pressed into Bakura’s warmth. Bakura’s breath hitched. The subtle movement brushed against Ryou _in the most delightful way_. Ryou cooed and nudged closer with his hips. Bakura rolled onto his side, slinging an arm around Ryou and holding them closer. His breath was raspy and desperate as it tickled the sheer linen draped across Ryou’s body. Such thin, thin fabric—hardly anything at all—and when Ryou spiked his hips, his erection met Bakura’s with only cloth between them.

“Ah shit, the game.” Bakura jerked to sitting.

“We’ll play after breakfast.” Ryou clawed for Bakura, wanting to pull him back beneath the covers and nudge against him some more.

“ _Ryou_. _We’re in the middle of a Shadow Game. Focus._ ”

“Shadow...game...oh!” Ryou jerked away.

Their fire was low, the magic of the item they used to create it almost spent. The blankets were already fading, like ethereal apparitions.

“We do need to eat to keep our powers up.” Bakura searched his bag for bread and beer.

“Thank you.” Ryou accepted his share of the rations.

“Had I known we’d be playing this in real time, I would have added a coffee dynamic, not a light dynamic.”

“Right?” Ryou laughed. “This beer isn’t even enough to give me a buzz while I face the untold horrors in the dark.”

“Booze cures negative status effects. Caffeine restores mana. Sex heals health.” Bakura smirked.

“Brilliant. Let’s quit this game and get to work on the new one immediately.”

“I wish...guess it’s time we move on.” Bakura dragged his fingers through his hair.

Ryou stood and offered a hand to Bakura. He gave Ryou a crooked grin as he accepted it. After pulling Bakura to his feet, they paused, lost in each other’s gazes.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” Bakura whispered.

“I’m not sorry for being in it.” Ryou shut his eyes and plucked a single kiss from Bakura’s mouth before grabbing his hand and pulling him outside.

The sky stretched dark and empty above them. The sand expanded in every direction. They were lost in an endless landscape.

“How are we going to find our way?” Ryou asked.

“If this is our game, there should be limits. It’s not the real Shadow Realm—I hope. We’ll walk forward until we can’t anymore.”

“I hope we scaled everything reasonably.” Ryou kicked at the sand with his boot.

“No time for a beta report.” Bakura shook his head.

“Keep an eye out for traps or monsters.”

“Already leaving a few surprises behind us to keep us from being ambushed.”

They both halted. Three figures rose from the sand. One was a headless corpse, and the other two were impaled souls with the pikes protruding from their mouths. Ryou rolled his dice and sparks sizzled at the corpses’ feet.

“I got all of them!” Ryou clapped.

“Nice, but we better not get overconfident.”

“You’re right. We have a lot of miles before we find the village.”

There was no way to predict when the dead would rise from the sand, but it took long enough for them to lift all the way out, that Bakura could lay traps where the monsters spawned and then Ryou would multiattack with his dice. Thus, even with their attacks weaker because of the light, they were able to reach the Shadow version of Kul Elna without digging into their supplies.

In the village a black aura surrounded the skeletons and ghosts. Rats scurried beneath their feet, little shadows nipping their boots when they passed.

“Watch out!” Bakura yanked Ryou back by their chain.

The ground sank, revealing a pit. Gazing downward, Ryou saw small, sleek black bodies writhing beneath.

“They would have stripped the skin off of my bones,” Ryou said, stare still locked on the swarm.

“No.” Bakura threaded his arms around Ryou’s stomach. “Because I have you.”

“Thank you.” Ryou turned in Bakura’s arms and cupped his face.

“Ryou, I…”

Whatever Bakura wanted to say evaporated in his throat. Ryou didn’t push him. They explored the city for items and found the secret chamber sinking into the ground. Shadow Priest Aknadin floated above the Tablet. Bakura threw a trap below him, but he avoided damage since he was in the air. Ryou pointed at the ceiling.

“Try above!’

Bakura nodded and a dark green sigil glowed along the roof. Acid rained down onto Aknadin’s head, and he shouted in pain. Ryou bounced his dice off Aknadin’s mask—it didn’t do any extra damage, he simply didn’t like Aknadin in any form. The dice landed on a decent attack and four swords pierced through Aknadin’s body. Bakura lunged forward with his chisel and chipped the mask while Ryou rolled a minor heal roll (he had twelve different effects, all random with a random modifier of how well each one did).

Perhaps they grew complacent with how smoothly the battle proceeded. They weren’t rookie RPG players and knew how to focus on boss HP to get the battle over with as soon as possible, so they were caught off guard when he summoned the red-eyed shadows to attack from all directions. Ryou screamed as he was struck with three consecutive attacks. Bakura smashed an herb mixture onto Ryou’s burned skin before healing himself.

Ryou had to focus on the shadows. Their attacks were weaker than the Shadow Priest’s, but there were so many that it added up each round. Just when they were able to focus their attacks on Aknadin again—he summoned more.

“Dammit!” Bakura spat, sweat running down his face as he used the acid trap to attack Aknadin, but used his physical attacks on the shadows to cul their numbers.

“Hang in there! We’ve almost got him!” Ryou said the faint red glow around the Shadow Priest. It meant low HP. They were almost done.

“Fuck!” Bakura screamed as a spirit dodged his attack and shot a dark spike through Bakura’s shoulder.

By the time the mask crumbled, and with it the rest of the Shadow Priest, Bakura and Ryou were both low on HP and exhausted.

The Tablet sank into the next level and they were sucked below into more adamant darkness.

“Need to...camp.” Bakura grit his teeth—in pain from his injuries.

“Yes.” Ryou set up camp and used herbs to heal them both.

“Thanks.” Bakura pulled out beer and bread from their inventory.

“Oh joy. I love eating the exact same meal over and over.” Ryou sighed and he chugged his beer.

“At least it’s something in our belly?” Bakura shrugged.

After they ate, they sat near the fire together.

“Well...two down, seven to go,” Ryou said.

“That’s about a fifth of the way,” Bakura agreed. “No sweat, right?”

“Maybe we got a little sweaty during that last battle.” Ryou laughed.

“At least you don’t smell bad—yet.” Bakura leaned close, inhaling Ryou’s hair.

Ryou lidded his eyes. He held Bakura’s shoulders as Bakura nuzzled into the side of his neck.

“Actually...you smell kinda good.”

“Mmm...so do you.” Ryou brushed his cheek against Bakura.

They smelled of battle and sweat, sand and magic. It awoke something primal within Ryou. He grabbed Bakura by the throat and pulled him into a kiss.

“I can’t take it anymore.” Bakura twisted his arms around Ryou and writhed against Ryou’s body as he deepened their kiss.

“Maybe the gods can’t see us in the dark.” Ryou’s kisses moved along Bakura’s jaw, down his neck, and to his shoulder.

“Never seemed like it before.” Bakura tilted his head to allow Ryou to bite and suck.

They crashed onto their sides. Same as that morning, they rolled their hips together until their cocks swelled. Bakura hiked his robes to his waist, and Ryou mimicked the action with his own free flowing linen. When their skin met, it was _hot_. Ryou gasped against Bakura’s skin. He thrust again and his cock gilded against Bakura’s. Bakura squeezed Ryou's ass, hitching as hard as he could hike his hips. It was so good tears lined Ryou’s eyes. He wanted more—he wanted to try everything all at once—but he was rushing toward orgasm.

Ryou slung a leg over Bakura to get more leverage. Their cries echoed each other until, with a whimper, Bakura buried his face and against Ryou’s shoulder and shuddered. Heat coated Ryou’s belly. Knowing their haphazard frotting was enough to make Bakura come sent a jolt through Ryou. He grabbed his cock and stroked himself. He hooked an arm around Bakura and sucked against his lips as he jerked himself off.

Over a month chained to a ghost, Ryou hadn’t come in so long that when he did, it made the blood ring in his ears and his vision grow faint. Ryou lay beside Bakura, gasping for breath. Bakura’s eyes fluttered shut; he clung to Ryou with the last of his strength as they both passed out together beneath their blanket.


	8. Chapter 8

Bakura woke in Ryou’s arms as he always did, but this time he was more relaxed than usual. He had to use some of his alchemy ingredients to clean them up before they ate their beer and bread. Each time he glanced in Ryou’s direction, Ryou smiled. An excited smile kept sneaking across Bakura’s face in return. He told himself to _quit it_ , but he only grinned more broadly each time.

Either because of their good night’s rest, or because they were getting the hang of the game, Bakura and Ryou fought well as they trudged through the desert. In this layer, the damned souls bled gold. The sight caused a chill to penetrate Bakura, but they killed everything they fought, always moving northwest.

They didn’t see any skeletons or ghosts as they reached the ruins. Bakura stopped and scanned their surroundings every few minutes, but...nothing. It wasn’t until they reached the Tablet that a cyclone of spirits surrounded them. Bakura wrapped his arms around Ryou, using his body as a shield. The ghosts continued to swirl around them, spreading their pace until they were a blur.

YOU!

All their voices shrieked as a single entity. Bakura _felt_ the noise in his skull more than heard it. They didn’t use a name, but Bakura knew they were talking to _him_.

FAILURE!

DAMNED US!

YOUR FAULT!

Bakura kept one arm around Ryou, but the other reached into his own hair and pulled. They screamed the same ideas which always lingered in the bottom of Bakura’s thoughts.

YOUR FAULT!

YOUR FAULT!

YOU LOST!

“You leave him alone!” Ryou screamed.

But he _deserved this_. He deserved it for failing and losing and letting them suffer like this. He deserved their hatred. He deserved any punishment they gave him.

“No!” Ryou screamed as the ghosts continued to wail. “You’re a bad family if you want him to suffer with you! A real family would have wanted him to be happy!”

Bakura jerked. He stared at Ryou. Tears poured down Ryou’s face, but this time he was sobbing loudly.

“I don’t believe they're really your family...even if they wanted you to give them vengeance before, I don’t believe your mother still thinks you should suffer. Not if she’s a real mother she _wouldn’t_.”

Bakura swallowed. He used his robes to dry Ryou’s face while he thought of his mother. His memories were worn, faded from 3,000 years of Shadow Magic. She was a short-tempered, hilarious, energetic woman. She probably _would_ have approved of Bakura busting into the palace with a sarcophagus in tow. She would have laughed louder than a drunk goat and pissed on the dead pharaoh herself.

But after all Bakura did. After giving himself to a demon and suffering for well over 3,000 years, would she really want him to suffer more?

No.

Nor would his father. Or his aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors. They had been a _community_. A rough one, yes, but a small, close-knit one.

“He’s right.” Bakura shook his head. “You’re not my family. You’re not my village. My village wanted vengeance, but they _empowered me_. They gave the last of their energy to strengthen Diabound. When I fought—we all fought. When I lost—we all lost. But even after I died, Zorc and his Shadow Priest _used them_ for their own games! This game! Fighting Zorc! This is also retribution and my village would know that!”

Laughter replaced the forsaken wails. The spirits disappeared and Aknadin stood on the Tablet. Only he was even less human than in his Shadow Priest form. Horns jutted from his head, and claws dripped from his fingers. Bakura set traps above and below while Ryou rolled his dice. They didn’t give him time to summon side enemies. They killed him in 3 turns. After the battle, Ryou cupped Bakura’s face.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah...thanks, Ryou.”

"I'm sorry," Ryou whispered. 

"It was just another one of Zorc's stupid illusions." Bakura shook his head. 

Ryou didn’t have a chance to answer before they were pulled _down down down_ into the next level. The crash jolted them. Bakura rubbed at his hip.

“We should have set up portals between levels.” Bakura groaned.

“At least we gave ourselves enough camping kits.” Ryou lit a fire.

“And food.” Bakura handed Ryou a jar of beer and loaf of flatbread.

“Still not enthused about the food.” Ryou ripped a chunk away from the bread and stuffed it in his mouth.

“It reminds me of what my mom fed me as a child.”

“What was your mom like?” Ryou asked.

“She was like...me.” Bakura smiled. “She was a lot like me.”

“I would have loved her, then.” Ryou sipped from his beer.

“I loved her,” Bakura confessed. “I love her. _Heh_.”

Bakura shook his head. He stood up and stepped to the edge of the campfire light. The desert around them was _dark_. Darker than any eclipse or storm could create. He stared at the void, feeling separated from it in a way he hadn’t known in thousands of years. He exhaled, turning and glancing at Ryou instead. 

“I’m an idiot. I was so worried about admitting the feelings I was getting for you, but it never really mattered. The gods are either up to something or they're more stupid than I am. I never stopped loving my village, I just had a different way of showing it.”

“Bakura…” Ryou cupped Bakura’s face with both hands and drew him in for a lingering kiss.

Bakura melted into it. He had no more reason to hold back. He admitted he loved his family, so if the gods wanted him weighed, they could end the Shadow Game and save Ryou, but—as always—the gods never seemed to appear when one needed them. He wasn't sure what they were really up to, but at least they were free to do what they pleased until the campfire burned down to ash.

Bakura eased them toward their blankets. He held Ryou’s shoulders and pressed downward until Ryou sat. He settled into Ryou’s lap, winding his limbs in a knot around Ryou while he slipped his tongue into Ryou’s mouth. Ryou clung to his robes. Bakura smoothed his fingers through Ryou’s hair, enjoying the weight and thickness of it. Their mouths grew warm as they kneaded their lips. Everything flowed calm and easy, the Nile gliding through the desert and bringing everything it touched to life. Easing a little closer, Bakura rubbed their crotches together. Ryou’s breath hitched, breaking their kiss. Bakura smirked and reconnected with Ryou’s mouth. Ryou tugged at Bakura’s robes, unraveling them. The cloth dropped down Bakura’s scarred shoulder and Ryou kissed along the smooth skin and gnarled, as if there were no difference between the two. He crept his way to Bakura’s neck, licking then latching onto Bakura’s pulse point.

“Ryou,” Bakura murmured.

Bakura shut his eyes. He rolled his hips a second time. Their hardening cocks nudged and Ryou shivered in anticipation. The suggestion of what Bakura wanted drove Ryou into a frenzy. His mouth became quick and impatient as he attacked Bakura’s neck with kisses. His hands yanked Bakura’s robes harder, pulling the fabric until it pooled around them in a useless puddle. Bakura unclasped Ryou’s belt and loosened the knots at Ryou’s shoulders. His outfit slid down his body. With both of them naked, they pressed their chests together and sucked on each other’s lips.

“Here.” Ryou dug through their bag and pulled out a small bottle of almond oil.

“Don’t waste our components for sex.” Bakura laughed.

Damn, he didn’t think he’d ever prioritize a spell or healing item over quick and needy pleasure, but this was a Shadow Game and he was more cautious now that he had someone he wanted to protect.

“Just a dab, it shouldn’t even count against our inventory, really.” Ryou plucked a lascivious kiss from Bakura’s mouth to assuage his concerns.

Bakura couldn’t resist. He _wanted_ Ryou. He felt energy swirling inside of him as they kissed. Ryou dabbed his palm with only a drop of the oil and worked it into both their cocks. Bakura bit his bottom lip as Ryou’s hand glided up and down. Ryou held their shafts together in his fist and he pulled Bakura close for another kiss.

Instinct consumed Bakura. He bucked into Ryou’s fist which made their cocks slide together in Ryou’s tight grip. They both groaned at the sensation and there was nothing for Bakura to do but repeat the action again...and again...and again…He worked up a quick and wanton rhythm. He hitched, and he _wanted it_. Desperate, Bakura bucked harder, moaned louder. Ryou wrapped his free hand around the small of Bakura’s back to support him as Bakura rode Ryou’s lap. Faster...faster...faster, faster, faster—faster-faster-faster—

“Ryou! Gods, Ryou! Ryou! _Nggh!_ ”

Bakura’s pitch rose as he came and broke as he spilled over Ryou’s hand. Ryou kept rubbing against Bakura’s cock, hissing and whimpering until he came a moment after. Boneless, Bakura curled into Ryou’s lap and rested his cheek against Ryou’s shoulder.

“I know they call it afterglow, but it’s really bright?” Ryou murmured, his voice sleepy and content.

“What? You’re right.” Bakura glanced left and right. The Shadows around them were physical in their utter blackness, but the light from their campsite spilled far in every direction.

“Did we...generate this? Because of our light mechanic in the game?” Ryou asked.

“Fuck, sex gives us light bonus! I’m totally putting that into the game when we get out of here.” Bakura grinned.

“Seriously though. It’s brilliant.”

“Pun intended?” Bakura raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, but only because I know you like them.” Ryou kissed Bakura’s nose.

“No cutesy shit.” Bakura scrunched up his nose, but his grin broadened.

“Can’t help myself.” Ryou attacked Bakura’s face with kisses.

Bakura’s laughter echoed through the Shadow Realm.

***

Ryou’s quadruple sword attack pierced through a decapitated body. Melted gold splashed from the wound, sizzling the sand where it hit and melting the grains to glass. They could only do long distance attacks because of the boiling gold counter damaged after each attack, but Ryou was a long distance fighter, so it didn’t hurt any of his moves.

The ruins of Kul Elna were a kilometer away. Black flames burned the village in an eternal homage to the horrors Bakura saw as a child. Something thick and black pooled from the village and rolled towards them. It took two perception attempts before Ryou realized what the shadows were: rats. A wave of shadow rats, half blurred into each other as they rushed toward them. Bakura marked the ground in front of them with as many traps as his current level allowed before they hit.

Ryou couldn’t attack quickly enough. No matter how much area damage they did, hundreds of the plump, shadowy bodies scurried up their boots and climbed their clothes. Their teeth flashed gold as they sank into their skin. Ryou cried out, the pain sharp and stabbing. Bakura had to cast traps beneath their feet, damaging them as well as their foes. After the battle, they both dropped to the sand, their HP low.

“Better...eat…” Ryou gasped.

“Can’t...hold…” Bakura collapsed into the sand.

“Dim your light!” Ryou shouted. Their light cost ba, and Bakura didn't have enough to sustain himself and the brightness. 

“We’ll be vulnerable.” Bakura winced. Bites marked his arms and legs; blood oozed into the sand.

“Dim it! It doesn’t do me any good if you’re dead!” Ryou pulled bandages from his bag and twined them around Bakura’s limbs.

Bakura’s eyes shut. The aura of light around them cut in half. They’d have more random encounters with less light, but stronger attacks. It was all a dice roll (literally) if their added damage was worth getting ground down in multiple battles. Not ideal beta circumstances for a new game dynamic, but they didn't have a choice. After Ryou staunched the bleeding, he grabbed a meal kit for them to share. He shoved half the bread into his mouth, indifferent to the taste and only wanting the energy it’d give him. Then he chugged half the jar of beer. Ryou shook Bakura conscious, and fed him so he could recover and they could keep going.

“How are you feeling?” Ryou asked.

“Better.” Bakura pushed himself to his feet.

“Why don’t you conserve your energy for the boss?”

“Ryou—”

“It’s okay.” Ryou smiled. “We got this.”

“That’s your brave front smile and I’m not buying into it.” Bakura scowled.

“We’ll each do half light. We need to see how it works, right?”

“Fine. Let’s go.” Bakura exhaled in defeat.

They were close enough that they didn’t have too many battles before they reached the boss. It was more a human-shaped Zorc than any of the former Shadow Priests. He attacked with a black lighting trap that ricocheted from one wall to the other—forcing them to constantly miss attacks while they dodged out of the way. They managed to kill him, but they dropped to their knees after the battle, weak and fatigued.

The Tablet disappeared and the void left in its place swallowed them to the next level. Ryou was so worn down that his hands shook, and he hardly had the strength to start their fire.

“Let’s eat...in the morning.” Bakura curled like a croissant beneath the covers.

“Good idea. I’m exhausted.” Ryou curved behind Bakura, pressing his chest to Bakura's back and slinging an arm around him. He readjusted the chain so it didn’t poke between them and fell asleep before he could even utter goodnight.

***

The darkness hurt to look at. Bakura blinked. Sometimes the dark was crayon black, sometimes deep indigo, and sometimes thick and rich violet, but it was always _dark_ and it drained them as they trudged through shadows instead of sand. In the distance, a wail of pain made both Bakura and Ryou flinch.

“I know that sound.” Ryou frowned.

“It’s the sound of suffering.” Bakura rubbed his forehead.

“It’s the sound you made every night when we were first chained together,” Ryou said.

“Makes sense. We'd better keep moving.”

“Maybe we can help them?”

“Could we?” Bakura asked. “I’m not so sure.”

He told himself they needed to focus on themselves and to hell with anyone else, but when they saw the victims, cocooned in endless tendrils of shadow, Bakura couldn’t take it. He recognized them. Every single one of them. They were the victims _he’d_ sent to the Shadow Realm. He recognized the fools from the cemetery during Battle City at first, but there were others...many others. An entire garden of damned souls suffering the same fate he’d suffered with one important difference: he’d deserved his time in the shadow while these trapped souls had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Bakura grabbed his saw from his tool kit. It wasn’t like a carpenter’s saw. It was dull, meant to wear down stone with the use of sand as an abrasive, but they were in a magical game running off of symbolism and he was able to saw through the shadowy cords cocooned around each victim. The second they were free, their souls vanished.

“Where did they go?” Ryou asked.

“I don’t know.” Bakura shook his head.

“Did they escape?”

“I hope so.” Bakura tilted his head, but saw only ink and shadow above them.

“Bakura.” Ryou gripped his arm.

“What?”

“I think we leveled up. I know more spells now. If we leveled then we got XP like for a sidequest, and if we got XP, then I’m sure they're okay.”

“Probably.” Bakura smiled at Ryou because of his relentless optimism.

He felt stronger as well, and realized he also knew a few new traps. Perfect. They’d need to do better than their last boss battle. They continued walking, until they heard more souls screaming. They followed a trail of damned, liberating them and sending their souls onward, until they saw black and red flames in the distance. Bakura flinched at the fire. It was _worse_ than what ruined his village. At least what burned his home was light, but the flames licking at the horizon were _dark_ , even the scarlet was _dark_ , a _not-color_ more than a color.

“Clearly where we need to go. How are you holding up?” Ryou asked.

“Fuck it. Let’s kill Zorc.” Bakura gripped Ryou’s hand for strength.

“I know it’s risky, but let’s dim our light. We should have a clear path to the boss, and our attacks will be stronger.”

Bakura nodded, dimming the aura around him. They stepped into the flames and a Shadow slithered around them. Bakura scattered five traps onto the floor and three on the ceiling—his max number. He held his chisel and lunged to the right, sinking it into the moving shade. Zorc screeched and formed in front of them. He was only slightly taller than Aknadin, but nothing human remained about him.

Ryou rolled his dice. An angel appeared, blinding the Shadows with light. Zorc shrieked and when the light faded...he was gone.

“No. Fucking. Way.” Ryou turned to Bakura.

The angel was a special random event that sometimes occurred when Ryou rolled doubles with his dice. Ryou had gotten her a few times during random encounters. It was a light-based attack that insta-deathed shadow creatures, but they never considered it’d work on a boss.

“Yes. Fucking. Way.” Bakura smirked.

“Should I balance that later? Doesn't it feel OP?”

“Keep it!” Bakura grabbed Ryou and spun him in the air.

Ryou squealed, giggling even when Bakura kissed him. They locked their mouths together. The ground vanished below them and they crashed into a thicker patch of shadows, but neither cared as they rolled in the pitch, laughing and kissing.

“Wait...wait...campfire…” Ryou fumbled with their inventory bag.

“Hurry.” Bakura leaned in and kissed Ryou’s neck as he tried to use the camping kit.

Soon they were beside a roaring fire—a bright, living fire and not a shadow. Bakura dipped his head below the blanket and kissed Ryou’s thighs.

“Mmm...Bakura…” Ryou moaned, spreading his legs and bracing himself by leaning back onto his forearms.

The blanket was stifling, so Bakura pulled it away, exposing Ryou’s snow-white skin. Bakura ran his tongue higher, pushing the linen aside so he could lap at Ryou’s balls.

“Bakura. Bakura. Oh damn.” Ryou wiggled beneath Bakura’s lapping tongue.

“I think that after such a lucky attack, you deserve a reward.” Bakura smirked, kissed Ryou’s cock head one time, then sucked Ryou to his base.

“ _Ahh_!” Ryou curled forward. He gripped Bakura’s hair and hitched.

Bakura pulled up, releasing Ryou’s cock with a loud pop of his lips. He ran his tongue along Ryou’s length, then flicked his tongue against the tip. Ryou squirmed. His eyes slammed shut and his face wrinkled in pleasure. Bakura sucked his balls for another minute before kissing higher and dropping to his base a second time.

“Oh, please!”

Bakura relaxed and lowered his lips. He allowed Ryou’s cock head to rub against the back of his throat, encouraged by the beautiful screams and the way Ryou tugged without mercy at Bakura’s hair.

“Oh wow...oh fuck...oh, I’m coming!” Ryou screamed at the top of his lungs after only a few minutes of Bakura sucking. His exhausted gasps echoed throughout the Shadows.

“Hear that, Zorc?” Bakura popped up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Ha!” Ryou laughed loudly in the darkness, his face flushed and red from orgasm and his hair a mess around his face.

Bakura crawled close, kissing Ryou’s neck. Ryou grabbed the chain and lassoed Bakura closer. He pressed their noses together, hovering his lips just out of reach.

“I should thank you.”

Ryou trailed kisses along the cut of Bakura’s jaw. He trailed down the side of Bakura’s neck and collarbone. As he kissed him, he slipped his hand beneath Bakura’s robes. He curled his fingers around Bakura’s hard dick and slid his fist up and down in calm, measured strokes. Bakura grunted and exhaled roughly as Ryou worked him. He hooked his arm around Ryou’s neck and hitched, hitched, hitched, hitched, hitched. Their movements were slow and rhythmic, soothing Bakura as the pleasure washed over him. He continued to press random kisses against Ryou’s neck as the gradual build of pleasure filled Bakura’s lower body. His skin burned, a shiver tightened his skin as goosebumps prickled along his arms. Bakura moaned Ryou’s name as everything toppled and he came. Afterward, he hung limp in Ryou's arms, sighing in relief. 

“Now let’s have dinner!” Ryou kissed his Bakura's cheek.

"Yeah, suppose we should." 

They cleaned up and stuffed bread into each other’s mouths before sharing both jars of beer. After they ate, they sat with their elbows bumping and stared into the fire.

“It’s...weird.” Bakura shook his head. “I’m happy.”

“Bakura.” Ryou wrapped his arms around him. “I’m very glad.”

“Still weird. We’re in the Shadow Realm. We’re in a Shadow Game. You’re not supposed to be happy during a Shadow Game.”

“Maybe you were always playing them wrong before.” Ryou winked.

‘I guess.” Bakura snorted laughter.

“Zorc shouldn’t have dragged us here if he wasn’t prepared for laughter and blow jobs.” Ryou giggled.

“Shit. You’re right. It’s _his_ problem we're here.”

“And tomorrow is level six. We’re more than halfway through!” Ryou tugged Bakura down to the blankets, wrapping their arms around each other and nuzzling close.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was kinda rushed. I tried to balance it in the worst places, but I'm too tired to fix it more than this, so we're calling it done.
> 
> Disclaimer: grotesque monsters, mild body horror, injury/burns.

The blue tones filtered out of the air around them, leaving only black, gray, and violets, all somehow darker and more opaque than before. Bakura couldn’t _look_. Instead, he focused on their feet and the dim light pooling around them. The mind warping dark made perception checks impossible. They relied on listening for monsters before they attacked. The noticeable _plop, plop-plop_ of melted gold dripping into darkness alerted them of an attack. The creatures made Bakura’s stomach turn. The little skin visible was red and blistered as gold bubbled from their mouths and eye sockets. It bled from their bodies like lava and splattered on the sand when they were damaged.

When they neared the boss battle, the corpses' bodies were bloated. Steam hissed out of sores and gold bubbled from the wounds like pus. The stench of cooked flesh made bile hit the back of Bakura’s throat. Blobs of fat, half rendered from the heat, oozed with the gold from the creatures' wounds in thick curds.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Bakura held his stomach.

“Focus, Bakura! It’s supposed to weaken our minds, but we’re almost done and then we’ll rest!” Ryou shouted, his voice stern.

But Bakura _was_ focused. That was the problem. He couldn’t _stop_ focusing on the way the over-cooked skin split and leaked, fat dribbling out like cottage cheese, gold pushing it down their limbs. Bakura wished his mind would spin out, wished he could shove it aside and kill them without flinching, but he _couldn’t_. He was trapped at the sight, hands shaking as he tried to set traps.

“Bakura!” Ryou screamed, several of the creatures had him surrounded.

Fear be damned, instinct kicked in and Bakura’s boots kicked up the sand as he raced to Ryou’s side. Traps manifested below each creature and Bakura grabbed Ryou’s cuffed wrist and pulled him to a safer distance. More bodies rose from the sand, but now Bakura could act, and fight. He and Ryou did their best to attack and avoid the boiling gold spraying from the wounds; however, having to avoid the enemies melted, spraying gold made their fighting slow.

One creature remained after the others were defeated. The dead flesh swelled, building pressure. Bakura realized what was happening but didn’t have time to run, so he shoved himself on top of Ryou. They crashed into the dark sands. Bakura covered the tops of their heads with his arms and shielded Ryou with the rest of his body. Steam hissed out of the corpse, then...it exploded. Bakura jerked when melted gold spackled his forearms. His mind had a millisecond for a haughty _that wasn’t so bad_ before his nerves caught up with him, checked in, and informed him otherwise.

He screamed. The gold already cooling, hardening. It _stuck_ to him. There was no way to touch it, not without ripping off the skin below. Bakura pressed the unburned sides of his arms to his chest and curled in pain, shrieking. _He had to think!_ He had to stop the burning! But what could he do?

“Oh gods. Oh fuck! Oh gods. Drink this.”

Ryou shoved a potion bottle into Bakura’s mouth and tilted it back. Bakura’s reflex was to spit it out and scream, but he forced himself to swallow, muscle memory doing its job, his brain connected enough to know _what_ he should do (swallow) despite him not exactly sure _how_ he was managing it. The pain subsided somewhat. Enough to fight for shallow breaths instead of wailing.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Okay...okay. Bakura. Listen. I’m going to cast a low level freeze spell to numb your arms, yes? Rip the gold off, flash heal you to mend some skin, but neither of us have a high enough level heal spell to regrow it all, so it’ll still be raw and I’ll bandage the rest. You _should_ heal at camp.”

“Sh-sh-should, but Sha-Shh-Shadow Game- _mmgh_ …” Bakura trembled. Fuck. He was going into shock, but they had a boss to fight. “Ryou. Do it.”

“Drink another potion first. It’ll help you regen quicker.” Ryou pressed another bottle to his lips.

How he fucking wished it were vodka. How he fucking wished they were in Ryou’s living room getting drunk and braiding each other’s hair before passing out together on the couch and waking up tangled in each other’s arms. Pain was supposed to be something only the living had to suffer, but Bakura was in far too much agony to be a ghost.

“Ready?”

“Fuck, just—”

“Freeze!” Ryou cast the low level spell, something only useful for a first dungeon.

Bakura cried out. It didn’t do much damage HP-wise, but the cold—ironically—burned.

“Close your eyes!” Ryou barked the order.

It was such a switch from Ryou’s usual demeanor, that Bakura obeyed without thinking. When he heard the _rip_ and felt the _pressure_ of Ryou wrenching almost all his skin from his arm he understood why Ryou didn’t want him to _see_. Yet the trick worked. Bakura’s arms felt frozen and _wrong_ but he didn’t register the full extent of the damage.

“Heal! Heal! Heal! Heal! Th-that’s all I have. Five level one spells. Do you have any heals left?”

“No.” Bakura shook his head.

He risked a look. The skin was raw and blood red, but he wasn’t bleeding. The skin looked like shit, but as long as it held through the final fight, Bakura would endure.

“Here. Bandages. I’ll use all we have left.”

“Save some. We’ll need—”

“Bakura, there’s no way we’re rationing what’s left through three more levels. The strategic thing is to prepare for the next boss. We’ll scavenge for supplies later.”

“Yes, because there are so many treasure chests in the Shadow Realm.”

“There should be. Zorc’s a bad DM.”

Bakura snorted. Ryou wound the bandages from his wrists to near his shoulders. From wrist to elbow experienced the most damage, but a good chunk of gold splashed on one of his upper arms as well.

“Same arm as your scar. It’s fitting," Bakura muttered. 

“This does not make it right.” Ryou grabbed Bakura’s face with his left hand.

While Bakura was sure Ryou meant to be loving with the gesture, there was more strength in it than Ryou probably knew and Bakura’s head jerked with the motion.

“You did bad things, yes. But _no one_ deserves _this_ , and _no pain_ can ever reduce what happened in the past, so there’s no reason for it. Tears filled Ryou’s eyes. “You shielded me. Again. Just like you shielded me against Osiris.”

“Well, if I stopped getting you dragged into Shadow Games,” Bakura's eyes fluttered shut. 

“This isn’t your fault. This is Zorc being _weak_ and _petty_. He lost you so he’s sulking by making you suffer, _well I’m going to kill him._ ”

“Ryou, I’m okay.” Bakura reached up and cupped Ryou’s face as well. “The bandages are helping. Don’t let this affect your play.”

“You’re right. We need to keep our heads collected if we’re going to defeat him. You should stay in the back ranks. Let’s up our light so we don’t run into any huge random encounters before we reach Zorc.”

Bakura nodded, he increased his light to about 75%. Ryou upped his to full blast, having taken little damage during the fight and therefore having more energy to use. They walked for fifteen minutes. A golden river cut through the darkness. The liquid boiled as it flowed into the nothing behind them. They followed it to their next battle.

The river split and formed a circle. A bridge of charred bones was the only way across. The sensation of bone crumbling to ash beneath his feet sent Bakura’s teeth on edge. They rushed across and attacked the dark in the center of the town before they could even see Zorc. He was there, twice the size of a human, still weakened because of their level in the game, but his speed was as quick as the shadow on the side of one’s vision that disappears the moment they turn their head to investigate.

"There!" Ryou rolled his dice, causing low damage.

"I got this!"

It didn’t matter how fast he was. Bakura poxed the shadowed floor with traps and they wore Zorc’s HP down despite Ryou having a few bad rolls with the dice. Zorc lunged at them, but they managed to dodge. Then Ryou rolled his quadruple swords, dealing enough damage to send their low-level Zorc dissipating into the shadows. 

"We're not getting sucked in this time." Ryou scooped Bakura into his arms and jumped. They landed hard, Ryou grunting from the impact, but it was more gentle than their other descents.

"That level was hell, but at least we managed okay on the boss round." Bakura dropped to his knees, arms throbbing. 

“Rest. I’ll set up camp.” Ryou rushed getting the fire going and bringing out double rations.

“Shouldn’t we save—”

“Again, we’ll either find more supplies from random drops or we don’t have enough. But making sure we survive the next obstacle is more strategic than holding out for theoretical problems. We only have three more levels to go. _We’re going to survive,_ " Ryou insisted. 

“Have I ever told you how drop-dead sexy you are when you’re in hardcore gamer mode?” Bakura asked.

“No. Tell me all about it?” Ryou swigged from his first jar of beer.

“You’re like a gaming sex god. There’s so much light in your eyes I’m surprised Zorc doesn’t faint when he looks at you.”

“Quit flattering me.” Ryou giggled.

“It’s true.” Bakura popped a chunk of bread into his mouth.

“At least I know you’re feeling good enough to joke around.”

“My arms hurt like fuck, but you know I’m a cockroach. Nothing can kill me.”

“Still...that wound…”

“It’s a nasty coincidence." Bakura stared at his beer and not his burned arms. "Zorc knows everything in my head and he’s trying to unravel me with mind fucks.”

“That was more than a mind fuck. That was an entire kama sutra of mind fuckery.” Ryou hugged himself.

“Yeah…” Bakura stared at the manacle around his wrist. A few globs of melted gold were welded to the original manacle. “I’m going to freak out about it later, I’m sure, but right now…”

Bakura shook his head. He was numb to it. It was _too much_. He couldn’t think about how mind-fucking-bad it felt when the gold hit his skin. The first rush of not bad, the agony which followed, the way the melting and the ice killed the nerves in his arms so he’d been strangely numb even as Ryou ripped the skin from his bones. The weak heal spells added new skin, but Bakura knew the only reason he wasn’t hurting as much as he should have was because those nerves were still damaged. Maybe he’d wake up fine. Maybe he’d wake up hurting. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to think about it. They finished their food and Bakura crossed his arms over his stomach as he rested on his back.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Ryou combed his fingers through Bakura’s hair.

“Help me fall asleep without thinking about it.” Bakura gave Ryou a desperate pleading look. “I don’t want to think...I don’t want to think about what it felt like when the gold melted my skin. I don’t want to think about my family _dying_ that way. Please help me pass out so I can recover from the camp heals.”

“Okay.” Ryou kissed Bakura’s forehead. “Do you want me to tell you a story, or rub your feet, or—”

“Kiss me,” Bakura blurted out before he could think.

He wanted Ryou to wrap around him, smothering his bad thoughts and fill him with comfort. Yes. That was what he wanted. His nerves had been burned and frozen. He went through the gauntlet of physical pain. Now he wanted to shiver in pleasure, not shock or physical trauma.

“Are, are you sure? Maybe a sensual massage?”

“The best massages have happy endings.” Bakura gave Ryou a yearning smile.

“I think it’s supposed to be stories with happy endings.” Ryou kissed Bakura’s face again.

His kisses trailed along Bakura’s face, down his neck, and across the unbandaged areas of his shoulders. Bakura sighed, relaxing beneath Ryou’s gentleness.

“Tell me a story without words,” Bakura begged Ryou.

“Okay, I’ll tell you a love story,” Ryou whispered.

“A love story with a happy ending. Isn't that cliché?” Bakura grinned.

Ryou lips danced down Bakura’s body. Angel feathers wouldn’t have been half as soft dragged across his skin. It wasn’t so much the kisses as Ryou’s attentive gentleness that eased the tension from Bakura. Ryou smoothed his hands along Bakura’s sides. Straddling him, Ryou kneaded Bakura’s shoulders and gazed at him with affection.

“And this love story can't be cliché because it’s never happened to _us_ before. All the old tropes would be better if _we_ did them, don’t you think?” Ryou smiled. “New and exciting and keeping you begging for more?”

“Yeah.” Bakura smirked.

He hated how true Ryou’s words were. He’d never been a creature of sentiment, but he could imagine doing a thousand stupid cliché things, and if it made Ryou smile, each experience would be the height of Bakura’s 3,000 plus years of existence. Hell, even folding laundry wasn’t too bad when Ryou was mixing muffin batter a few meters away and chatting about game dynamics.

Ryou’s hands moved to Bakura’s pectoral muscles. He worked across the rest of Bakura’s chest, and inched down to his ribs. He paid careful attention to Bakura’s thighs and calves, unlacing Bakura’s boots so he could reach down to his ankles.

“This is helping.” Bakura sighed.

“Good.” Ryou kissed Bakura’s belly.

The massage helped relax him, but the kisses excited him. He hitched his hips closer to Ryou’s mouth. Bakura was careful not to strain his arms and kept more still than he’d like, but couldn’t help but lift up and down a little as Ryou neared his cock. Bakura's cock was hard and heavy against his own stomach. Ryou gripped his shaft and gazed into Bakura’s eyes before he began.

“I’ll tell you if it hurts. Don’t hold back.”

With a nod, Ryou opened his mouth and lowered his lips halfway down Bakura’s dick. He licked. The wet dab jolted pleasure through Bakura. Yes. Pleasure. Something he’d forgotten about as they trudged in the eternal darkness of the Shadow Realm. But Ryou revived it, and now it washed over him in delicious waves.

“Gods yes.” Bakura exhaled. He wanted to tug Ryou’s hair, but kept his arms to his side.

Instead of his usual rush to orgasm, Bakura kept his body relaxed to avoid stressing his wounds. He allowed the soft pleasure of Ryou’s mouth eased him closer to climax like a winding road instead of a leap from an airplane. Even without him bucking or thrusting, the eagerness in his loins expanded, tightened, drew him to the edge.

“R-Ryou, just a...little— _ah_ —faster. Please. I want to come so bad.”

Ryou indulged him, slamming his mouth down and sucking upward. Bakura gasped. He braced himself with his legs, pressing his weight onto his back, but keeping his arms as lax as possible. His fingers curled into his palms at the last moment. He was too far gone to feel anything but the desire which broke and crested and poured down Ryou’s throat.

He tried to sit up so he could pleasure Ryou in return, but Ryou pressed his hands firmly against his chest.

“Don’t you dare. You lay back and watch. I've got this.”

Ryou unclasped his belt and shoulder clasps. The fabric bunched around his knees and over Bakura’s body as Ryou knelt straddled on Bakura’s stomach. His body was wondrous, a white beacon in the darkness. A confident grin spread across Ryou's lips as he dragged his hand along his body and grabbed his cock. It made Bakura want him all over again despite being satisfied. Ryou rolled his hips into his own fist. He released a long, sensuous breath as he stroked himself.

Bakura bit his bottom lip. He’d never seen anything as gorgeous as Ryou sitting on top of him and pleasuring himself. He writhed, face twisting in pleasure. After several minutes, Ryou's chest tightened as he drew close. His hand sped up, his expression collapsed in pleasure, and his hips bucked like a wild gazelle in full sprint. The most succulent blush Bakura had ever seen spread across Ryou’s face as he arched and came all over Bakura’s stomach.

“Sorry.” Ryou gasped, breathless, when he saw the mess he made.

“Are you fucking kidding me? That was the hottest godsdamned thing in existence.”

Ryou giggled, flushed and giddy. He cleaned them up, redressed, and settled close to Bakura without bumping his bandages.

“We’re too far away.” Bakura frowned.

“Can you lay on my chest? Or will that hurt your arms?”

Bakura frowned, considering his options. He settled for hooking a leg over Ryou’s and keeping his arms flat where he lay.

“I love you.” Ryou reached out and teased Bakura’s hair.

“I love you too,” Bakura confessed. “If I were alive...I would do all the stupid cliché things with you, you know? Dates, and flowers, and one really awkward visit to your dad where he ignores us both for work and then we bail and get drunk together so you can rant about what a fucking distant bitch he is.”

“Wow, okay, that sounds...pretty accurate. I didn’t realize you’d put so much thought into us as a couple.” Ryou smiled.

“Gotta think about something when you’re vacuuming and washing dishes.”

“Hmm, we have become a bit domestic, haven’t we? We could go to the movies, if you’d like. Think about it. You’re invisible. You could sit in my lap right there at the theater and no one would know.”

“Bet I could do a few other tricks in the dark theater while I’m at it.” Bakura winked.

“Best. Horror. Movie. Ever.” Ryou giggled.

“You _would_ want a hand job during a slasher fic.” Bakura snorted. “Actually, I’m glad you’re so morbid. Anyone else would have freaked out after I got hurt, but you kept your head and did your best to patch me up...thanks.”

“Once a White Wizard, always a White Wizard.” Ryou yawned.

“Yeah, we better get some sleep. I have a feeling Zorc isn’t going to let us sleep in late and eat brunch before we finish the game.”

“Worse. DM. Ever.”

They both giggled. The darkness did its best to swallow them whole, but their fire was bright, and their laughter was loud, long after they told themselves to go to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo close to being done. I'm freaking ready for my posting vacation after this.

The dark was dark as ever, or perhaps more so, though more so was impossible. Nevertheless, unlike the previous level, the last shreds of color were drained from it. Everything was different variations of black and a few dark grays, and yet even the grays were nothing but void layered over void. Even Bakura, who spent thousands of years in this darkness, had trouble parsing his surroundings or making sense of the variations of nothingness.

The Monsters were also losing their shape. They were melted down to torsos, crawling forward and leaving a trail of melted gold and visceral. Ryou and Bakura were careful to stay away and finish their battles __quickly__. The trails the dead left behind continued to boil long after they were banished, and Bakura and Ryou had to wind their way through the darkness to avoid the damage zones.

“Floor hazards are always a nice touch in games. Was that our detail or something Zorc is doing to deter us? I can’t remember.” Ryou glanced at the organs boiling in a puddle of gold as if they were strolling through an art museum instead of the Shadow Realm.

“Haven’t a clue.” Bakura snorted.

“How are your arms?”

Bakura held out his arms. They were able to remove the bandages after camping, but red scars dappled across his white skin.

“Itchy.”

“I have a cream at home that helps,” Ryou said.

“I wouldn’t think a ghost could itch.” Bakura lowered his arms, refusing to scratch no matter how his skin demanded for it.

“It’s a Shadow Game, after all. Perhaps it’ll lessen when we’re back at home.”

Home. Yes, Ryou’s apartment had become home since he’d return. Bakura imagined their kitchen, and their tea cups, and the sound of Ryou’s laughter echoed from the walls. He slipped their bound hands together.

“Let’s hurry so we can find out.”

“Of course.” Ryou brought their hands to his lips and kissed Bakura’s knuckles.

They knew they were close when black dripped from above them. The drops hissed like acid as they landed.

“How the fuck are we suppose to avoid this?” Ryou jumped to the side.

“Luck.” Bakura snorted. “Never been lucky, though.”

“Let’s run.” Ryou pulled their still clasped hands and barreled forward.

The melting darkness above them quickened as it rained onto their heads. It ran in rivulets down their hair and arms, burning when it touched their skin. Then, as if bursting into the eye of the storm, everything stopped.

“This is wretched.” Ryou used the skirt of his outfit to wipe the searing black away from his skin. He winced. It wasn't as painful as molten gold, but it hurt. 

“Welcome to the Shadow Realm. It sucks ass.” Bakura did the same with his robes, wiping away the gunk before it could do long-term damage. 

“Wearing us down before a battle is __cheating__.”

“Ha! Complain to the DM.”

“Oh, I __wish__ I could give Zorc a piece of my mind. I’d tell him—”

Ryou didn’t have a chance to finish. Said DM attacked them and Ryou could only protest with dice rolls.

“Swords! Swords! Swords! Swords!” Ryou chanted as he rolled the dice—hoping for his high damage roll.

Instead, an enormous treasure chest fell from the pitch above. It landed on Zorc’s tail and did some minor damage, and was good for a laugh, but they didn’t have time to think about it before melted, crawling corpses appeared in a circle around them and began crawling toward them with measured, timed drags of their mutilated bodies.

“Boss just got a time limit.” Bakura gritted his teeth as he lunged at Zorc with his chisel.

His melee attacks did nothing compared to the traps scattered along the floor, but Zorc was avoiding those best he could. All the while, the creatures around them drew closer, forcing their battle into a smaller and smaller space. The only benefit of the closing circle of melting corpses was it gave Zorc less room to maneuver. Bakura took advantage by laying new traps into the tight space, and several sprung at once. 

"Fuck yes!" Bakura waited for his skills to reload before surrounding Zorc with another volley of traps. 

"Finally!" Ryou shouted as four swords plunged into Zorc from all sides. 

Zorc lunged for them, but they ducked. HIs vanished; a hole opened up beneath them like a sphere of Vantablack in a dark room. Around them, the creatures still crawled, tightening the circle. The sound of their sizzling flesh echoed in the void, and boiling gold gushed around them. 

“Let’s jump!” Bakura screamed.

“Wait!” Ryou flung open the chest, grabbed the two packs inside and slung one over each shoulder. “Ready!”

They flung themselves into the deepening darkness and crashed into the shadows below.

“Loot!” Ryou sat up, holding his bags in victory.

“Open them up.” Bakura glanced above them, half expecting corpses to rain on top of their heads.

Nothing happened. Bakura expected not even Zorc could cheat the game so much as to condense the levels. His last trick of trying to lasso them with melted corpses was the reason he lost, and because Ryou and Bakura had won the battle, they'd earned their chance to rest. Bakura smirked. No wonder he always lost against the pharaoh. He should have never joined forces with Zorc. He was too impetuous even for Bakura’s tastes.

“Fuck yes! Meat!” Ryou held up a shank of what looked like goat.

“I’ll start the fire.” Bakura licked his lips.

After a week of bread and beer, the smell of goat roasting on the fire made both their stomachs growl. The bags had extra food, medicine, and a few potions, including exploding potions which functioned like grenades.

“We’ll save these for the next boss fight. If we can end it quick and dirty, we’ll be able to get to the final battle with the most health and medical supplies possible.”

“I’m sure Zorc will think of something worse than acid rain for us next time.”

“Exactly why we’re going to hit him hard instead of saving these.” Ryou re-packed them.

“Is this wine?” Bakura opened another bottle and sniffed. “Pomegranate. Let’s drink it.”

“Okay.” Ryou stole the bottle so he could take the first swig before passing it to Bakura.

“Thief!” Bakura accursed with a flirtatious smile.

Ryou wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and winked. They also had leaks, onions, and yams which Ryou roasted in the fire as the goat cooked. They passed the wine back and forth and soon had a feast to share as their thoughts danced from the stronger drink.

“This is nice. Well, not really, but you know?” Ryou glanced at Bakura with wine-bright eyes.

“I know.” Bakura touched Ryou’s lips. They were plump and beautiful and he wanted to feel how soft they were beneath his fingertips. Ryou sighed at the touch.

“Can we do this again when we get home? Drink and game. Maybe skip the Shadow Magic though.” Ryou giggled, taking another swig.

“You have to braid my hair again.”

“Okay, but don’t drunk text Yugi.” Ryou wagged a warning finger at him.

“He is __rude__ ,” Bakura insisted.

“And you’re facetious,” Ryou added.

“That’s to be expected.” Bakura ripped into the goat with his teeth. “Gods, this is so good. Fuck.”

“You sound like you’re getting a blow job.” Ryou giggled.

“It’s __almost__ as good as a blow job—though not quite.” Bakura laughed with him.

“Oh man. When I get you home and get you to a proper bed, I'm really going to let you have it.”

“Chain me to the bed?” Bakura jangled their chain.

“Pffft, I don’t know, Set might be into that. Bastard. Chaining us together. If he knew Zorc was going to pull something, why did he give us a disadvantage?”

“Because the gods are dicks.” Bakura waved the protest away with his hand.

“I wrote them a letter complaining,” Ryou said.

“You did?” Bakura snickered. “I’m sure that went over well.”

“Set wrote me back. In a dream, though. I can’t remember what the letter said. It was full of puns.”

“Sounds accurate.” Bakura shrugged.

Finished with his meal, he licked the grease from his fingers, finished the wine with Ryou, and dropped onto his back. Ryou plopped half on top of him and Bakura held him with both arms.

“This would be nicer with stars,” Bakura said.

“Yeah. We could go camping. Would you go camping with me?” Ryou asked.

“I’ll do anything with you.” Bakura sighed.

“I like you when you’re nice.” Ryou pressed his face against Bakura.

“When I came back I couldn’t remember who I was. Zorc had eaten so much of me that I’m not even sure it’s possible to __go__ back to exactly who I originally was, but spending time with you...I think I am better than I was before. Or, if not better, happier, and...happy wasn’t a word I would have ever used for myself. Even when I had fantasies about vengeance, it was never to be happy; I wanted retribution, not joy.”

“Maybe you simply needed to know you weren’t alone, even back then,” Ryou whispered.

“Maybe. Maybe even if one other person had survived...I don’t know.” Bakura shook his head. “We could have started over, or rebuilt, or at least grieved together, but…”

“You were alone.”

“Unless you count the 99 ghosts wailing for justice, but even now I’m not sure if that’s what they would have wanted had they not been tainted by Shadow Magic. I remember how...murky it made my emotions. How it feeds on all the wrong things. It probably did the same to them.”

“You’ve been hurt so much.” Ryou tightened his hold on Bakura. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t hurt anymore.”

“I feel the same way about you.” Bakura kissed the crown of Ryou’s head.

***

In the morning they ate bread and beer, filling up their power gages and allowing themselves a little more light than they had for previous levels, but as they traveled, sweat dabbed at Ryou’s forehead. The air was thick, like tar. It sucked the energy from them just to move and breathe, and any amount of light __hurt__ to maintain. They stopped and split another loaf of bread, and dimmed their auras to save energy.

Ryou scanned the darkness. His eyes watered as the __unfairness__ of it threatened to unravel his brain. He listened for dripping, or moans, or the soft bubbling of boiling gold, but nothing. His hair shifted as a cold wind blew into his face. Ryou shivered, not simply from the cold, but because he’d never felt anything suggesting an __atmosphere__ before in the Shadow Realm. Bakura glanced at him with a knowing look on his face.

“He’s up to something again.”

“We have to keep going.” Ryou leaned into the strengthening wind and stepped forward.

The longer they traveled, they more fierce the wind grew. Grains of black-black sand blew into their faces. It scrubbed at their skin, giving them a thousand tiny cuts, draining them of their energy and using up all their low level and medium heals as well as a good amount of medicine.

“Fucker,” Ryou swore. “Cheap dirty fucker. This isn’t anything we can __fight__.”

Bakura linked his arm with Ryou’s. Huddling together, they marched through the storm. Their clothes were little more than rags from the acid a few levels ago, and the sand tore them even more threadbare and ruined, stained with sweat, old gore from previous monsters, and their own blood. Ryou noticed their hair was streaked with red from their constant bleeding and healing. 

“Stop,” Ryou insisted.

“Just a little longer.” Bakura shook his head.

“This is a waste of time!” Ryou called over the roar of the storm. “We need to bandage ourselves. It should slow the damage!”

Bakura nodded. He grabbed a roll of bandages and began at Ryou’s boots, winding his way up. After they were both bandaged, Bakura ripped some of his bottom robes and wound the cloth around their faces like a hood and mask. They shielded their eyes, squinting through the dark and allowing their light to go fully out. Since there were no random encounters to worry about, they might as well save the energy. Ryou and Bakura clasped the end of each other's chain to keep them from getting separated in the pitch. There was nothing to do but walk forward, constantly forward. They knew the direction because of the wind. After an hour of trudging through nothing, they entered the eye of the storm.

"We're not waiting for another ambush." Ryou rolled his dice.

A volley of explosions eruption behind him and he spun around. The bomb attack Ryou rolled forced Zorc from his hiding spot. Bakura used the available attack of opportunity the explosion created to surround Zorc in traps. Next, Ryou pulled out the explosive potions they'd gathered from the loot drop and tossed them directly into Zorc’s face. Whatever underhanded tricks Zorc may have had for the battle—he never had a chance to use. Between Bakura’s early hard-hitting traps and the explosive potions, they knocked his HP down far earlier than Zorc could have anticipated. It was __too easy__ , and Ryou didn't trust it as luck. Zorc was allowing them to beat him, to waist their supplies so they'd have nothing left for the final battle.

They never fell or saw a hole. Instead, the weight of the other 8 levels bore down on them without warning. Bakura and Ryou dropped to their knees, gasping. 

"Is this...the final level? I can't breath." Ryou squeezed his eyes shut. It was somehow less dark behind his eyelids.

"I'll set up camp." Bakura activated their camp fire, but the flames hardly pushed away the shadows which crawled and slithered across their skin like undead thralls.

“These.” Bakura reached into the dark and pulled what looked like a hank of black hair. “They’re like straws. They creep into your veins and __drink you__.”

“Come here. Closer to the me. I'll keep them away from you.” Ryou pulled Bakura right next to the flames and held him. 

It would be dangerous in the physical world to sleep so close to the fire, but in the Shadow Realm the light and warmth was a blessing. The living threads of darkness creeped close, but couldn't quit reach them because of the camp fire. Ryou swaddled Bakura in their blankets, and they shared the last of their goat and roasted vegetables for dinner and drank beer.

“We should...sleep, shouldn’t we?” Bakura glanced at him. “Final battle and all that.”

“You’re right.” Ryou nodded.

Bakura lay on his side and Ryou spooned behind him. Ryou intended on sleeping. The air was thick, and the dark oppressed their very souls, but perhaps because of the despair trying to slither into them like the infinite black tendrils worming as close to the fire, that Ryou kissed the nape of Bakura’s neck and traced his fingers down Bakura’s burn-scarred shoulders. And, gods, hadn’t Bakura earned those scars protecting Ryou?

“I know who you were before you ever touched the Ring,” Ryou whispered as his lips graced across Bakura’s skin. “And you’re the same person today that you’ve always been.”

“How so?”

“When the gym teacher pulled my hair and called me names, you protected me. You did it in an awful way, trapping his soul in a figurine, but it was to protect me. In Battle City, you threw yourself in front of Osiris to make sure I survived the blast. You pretended not to be falling in love with me because you knew if the gods took you away it would hurt me, and you wanted to protect me.”

Ryou kept kissing, and kissing, and kissing. He held Bakura’s hand and kissed the scars near the manacles.

“You flung yourself on top of me and made sure not a single drop of gold scalded me. __That’s__ who you are, Bakura. It was who you’ve always been and who you became again as you rediscovered yourself. You’re the kind of person who flings himself in harm's way for the sake of others.”

“Is it possible…” Bakura’s voice was strained as he whispered. “To be someone who laughs as he kills, and be the person you’re talking about at the same time?”

“Yes. I think so.” Ryou brushed Bakura’s hair away from his face so he could nibble on Bakura’s ear, whispering, “Never said you were perfect. You’re an asshole, but you’re an asshole who defends the people he loves with his entire being.”

Bakura rolled onto his back and gazed at Ryou. Tears lined his eyes, but he didn’t look sad, only overwhelmed. He traced Ryou’s lips again, and Ryou knew Bakura wanted to taste them so he lowered down and brushed his lips against Bakura’s. Their tongues dabbed together. Each kiss was light. Their fingers explored the hills and valleys of their bodies. As Ryou skimmed Bakura’s ribs, Bakura squirmed, biting the inside of his cheek but laughing despite himself.

“You’re ticklish.” Ryou grinned as he passed his fingers over Bakura’s ribs again.

“Fuck you!” Bakura curled in on himself as he laughed.

“Now I know what to do when you misbehave.” Ryou pinned Bakura’s arms over his head and sucked his neck.

“Ryou.” Bakura’s voice was gruff and yearning.

“I know we should sleep, but…”

“Abso-fucking-lootly __do not stop__.” Bakura hitched his groin against Ryou’s body. “I wish we had some almond oil.”

“There’s lube in my bedroom closet,” Ryou spoke with his lips pressed against Bakura’s neck. "We'll use it when we're out of this stupid game." 

Ryou rolled his hips down, grinding into Bakura’s body. He bucked upward and they panted as they moved together.

“Why—do you have—lube?”

Ryou giggled, circling his hips faster. “Well, before I was chained to you, I enjoyed a healthy amount of masturbation.”

Bakura hummed and grinned, his face betraying how much he enjoyed the idea of Ryou laying in bed and touching himself. After another round of kissing, Ryou couldn’t wait any longer. He tugged at Bakura’s tattered robes until they sat waist-high. They didn’t have almond or flax oil, but they did have a small portion of olive oil left. Not enough for what Bakura wanted, but enough to make them slick. Ryou anointed their cocks with the last drizzle and rubbed their cockheads together.

“Thought that was for cooking?” Bakura smirked as he hiked upward.

“Last level. Tomorrow night we’ll be home or dead, so I want to love you the best I can now.” Ryou sucked Bakura’s bottom lip.

Holding their cocks with one hand, Ryou kept his chained hand locked around Bakura’s wrists. They kissed as they frotted their bodies. Bakura dug his heels into the blankets and bucked hard enough to raise Ryou off of the ground. Ryou shrieked, laughing as he settled and re-kissed Bakura. The gliding of their skins made their skin __hot__. Each slide of flesh to flesh brought Ryou a little closer to the brink. He imagined how it might feel to have Bakura __wrapped__ around Ryou’s girth. The fantasy made the breath shudder from Ryou’s mouth and made his hips circle faster. Bakura locked his legs around Ryou’s waist, crying out with beautiful, unbashful cries. They rang in the darkness, resonated with their firelight, and drove the slithering shadow tendrils deeper into the shadows.

“That’s right— _ _back off__ ,” Ryou gasped as he mocked the little shadows. “We’re __busy__.”

“Don’t—talk to the—Shadow Magic—Fuck me!” Bakura arched.

“Wait until we get home.” Ryou bit and sucked Bakura’s ear. “Tomorrow night I’m going to love you so hard your voice will be hoarse. I’ll spread your legs so wide you’ll need to stretch before we start. I’m gonna roll a Nat20 and do double damage as I Crit that ass.” Ryou punctuated the statement by sucking Bakura’s nipple.

“That’s not even Monster World!” Bakura laughed between moans.

“Can’t...focus...gonna...come—” Ryou moaned low, deep, and loud as his orgasm made every single nerve light up.

Without giving himself time to recover, Ryou dropped down and shoved Bakura's cock all the way to the back of his throat. Bakura screamed __ohs__ as Ryou bobbed. He trashed beneath Ryou, crying out. Still Ryou plunged low and pushed himself back up until Bakura's seed poured down his throat. Ryou swallowed and then sucked until Bakura was utterly breathless and boneless in their pile of blankets near the campfire. Ryou gave Bakura a victorious grin and kissed his way up Bakura’s body.

Despite being satisfied, they continued to touch each other, kiss this or that, and show their love anyway they could think before the fire dimmed and the darkness closed in.


	11. Chapter 11

Bakura woke because he couldn’t breathe. The darkness was so thick that it was like breathing in smoke.

"It's okay. I'm right here." Ryou lifted Bakura to sitting, pulling the threads away from Bakura's body and stroking his hair. He surrounded himself with a slight light aura, enough for them to see while still conserving energy. 

"Why's it so dark?" Bakura coughed.

"Our fire went out." 

"That's not part of the game mechanics." Bakura stood, sitting or laying was too vulnerable of an action without so little light around them. 

“I know. We'd better eat extra rations. We’ll need the energy.” Ryou handed Bakura two loaves of bread.

"Fuck." Bakura shoved the food into his mouth, chewing quickly. 

"It's the last level. Just a little longer and then we can sit in the kitchen and pass the vodka back and forth and talk about what a wild time we had," Ryou insisted. 

After a quick breakfast they set out for the final dungeon and battle; however, even with the extra food, it was hard to walk. Each step was quicksand. Their feet sank into the shadowed-mists below and the darkness sucked at their steps, resisting the slightest forward movement.

“Ryou...we won’t have heka to fight with if we keep this up.”

“I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Ryou stopped, keeping his gaze with Bakura’s.

“You want to kill our light, all the way, to save everything we can.”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand _how_ dark it is?” Bakura asked him. "This isn't the other levels. This is the pit of Zorc's power." 

“Yes. That’s why I want to extinguish it. It’s like we’re surrounded by anti-matter. It’s too dense. Even this much light is taking everything we have. As it stands, we’re going to have a hell of a fight on our hands. We need to make sure we have enough magic for our spells.”

Bakura raised his hand, staring at the golden chain around their wrists.

“Maybe Set knew what he was doing after all.”

“We can’t get lost if we’re attached, now can we?” Ryou smiled. “I’ve thought of that too.”

Bakura slung the chain over his shoulders, pulling Ryou much, much closer to him. He locked his fingers with Ryou’s. Ryou kissed Bakura’s palm.

“Zorc is a coward. He'll wait until he thinks we’re out of power and ambush us.” Ryou pressed his free hand to Bakura’s chest, over his heart. “This is it. We survive this and you’re free.”

Bakura nodded. He nodded, kissed Ryou’s hand, and cut his light. The darkness licked against his skin, so familiar...and despised. What Bakura hated the most about it was how he still remembered _wanting_ it. Wanting the power, the rage, the emptiness it offered. Back then, he truly thought it was the key to his vengeance and justice.

Now, all he wanted was for Ryou to survive this Shadow Game he’d gotten them dragged into. They trudged onward. The more they walked, the more they sank into the density of the void. The suction began around their ankles when they began, but reached below their knees before Bakura saw the red not-light glowing around them.

“He thinks he has the advantage, but our spells are stronger in the dark as well.” Ryou said, raising his hand to roll his dice. They glowed, cutting Ryou in a ghostly, blue light. "Let's see what we can do." 

Before Ryou could roll the dice in his hand, Zorc’s tail lashed through the black. Bakura only saw the silhouette of it as the pointed tip punctures through Ryou’s gut like a spear. 

"Ryou." Bakura couldn't even scream when it happened. It was so sudden and unexpected that he couldn’t accept it was _real_. He grabbed Ryou, cradling him in his arms. “No. No. No. Stop. We have to stop. We have to end this game.” Bakura shook. “Zorc! End it! Now!”

“Bah-kura…” Ryou coughed. A reddish glow surrounding him, like the light in a dark room, turned the blood on his lips to ink.

“Zorc! I said end this! Now! You can keep me! I’ll stay! Just send Ryou back!”

Tears poured down Bakura’s face. He was weak. He was human. He was in love. He didn’t care if he suffered for eternity, as long as Ryou survived.

“That’s not...how Shadow Games...work…” Ryou coughed more blood.

Around them the laughter vibrated their very guts. The tremor of it made Bakura nauseous.

**Neither one of you are ever leaving here again.**

“Please...Ryou has to live.” Bakura crushed Ryou to his chest and prayed to the gods that put Ryou in this mess.

He and Ryou were to their waists in the ground that was more quicksand than floor. He felt the dark creep up their body as they were pulled _down_. Zorc was never going to give them a chance for a real fight. He knew he couldn't beat Ryou in an RPG, so he made a final sinkhole to trap them forever. Bakura clenched his jaw. The tears burned down his cheeks and he screamed into the emptiness, _demanding_ the gods hear his voice _for once_. 

“Please...Ryou has to live! I love him…” 

“I love you too, and I'm going to protect you.” Ryou lifted his hand. “I still have...my dice. You know what would be funny? Watch me end this...in a single throw…”

He dropped the dice, but passed out before they hit the ground. Bakura clung to Ryou, watching as the glowing dice tumbled int he Shadows. Zorc continued to laugh around them, assured of his victory. The dice struck the dark sludge now past their navels, bouncing and striking each other with a _clack_. They landed on 00.

Ryou's special roll. 

Bakura hadn’t noticed the first time, but the angel looked a lot like Amane—leave it to Ryou to add that detail into his dice attacks. She smiled down at them and spread her wings. The light disintegrated the darkness around them, brushed the sludge entrapping them away as if it were ash in a breeze. The brightness swallowed them, blinded them, lifted them above everything and set them down on solid ground. Bakura didn’t even understand until he saw the shelf with his little Marowak skull sitting on an empty shelf: Bakura’s only material possession. Which meant they were in the material world.

“Told you. I told you I'd do it.” Ryou laughed. He jerked Bakura’s face down and kissed him.

Bakura broke for air, scanning the room over and over as if afraid it’d diminish back into Shadows.

“Is this...real? There’s no way—”

“Are you doubting how utterly fucking badass I am at tabletop RPGs? Bakura! You should know better!” Ryou jumped to his feet and tugged at their chain. “Kitchen, Bakura. I’m hungry.”

“How are you so calm?” Bakura shouted. “We were in a Shadow Game for over a week? You were dying in my arms!”

“I had one entire HP left! No worries!”

“Fucking hell, Ryou!”

“Oh no, your scars.” Ryou grabbed Bakura’s arms, smoothing his hands over the blotched skin. “Why are you still scarred? We beat Zorc. You should be fine. See?”

Ryou pulled up his shirt, revealing his pale stomach, a slight pooch softening what was once a too-thin frame but no wound.

“Who cares about my arms? You’re alive!” Bakura wrapped his arms around Ryou, squeezing him enough to crack him.

“I care! I don’t want you to be hurt!”

“I’ve never felt better in my entire life! Or death! Whatever this is!” Bakura smashed their mouths together.

Ryou intertwined the fingers of both their hands, but broke the kiss.

“Kitchen.”

“Yes sir.” Bakura nipped the side of Ryou’s neck. “Holy shit, Ryou! You One Turn Killed Zorc Necrophades!”

“Tonight we’re going to roleplay my ascent to gaming _godhood_ in the bedroom, but for now we’re going to eat anything in the kitchen that hasn’t spoiled.”

Nothing was spoiled in the kitchen. The milk and vegetables were fresh. The salt pork didn’t smell off. The bread on the counter hadn’t molded. They’d been gone for nine days, but Ryou’s cell phone showed only nine minutes had passed.

“Talk about a speed run.” Ryou shoved his phone into his pocket again. "But I guess that's typical Shadow Magic hijinks." 

Bakura snorted, shoving bread in the toaster as Ryou handed him a pear. They ate whatever they could grab while Ryou cooked double pork ramen for both of them. The clock might have only counted nine minutes, but their souls and heka had been through hell and back in that time and they needed to recover.

“Ew, I smell like it’s been a week.” Ryou wrinkled his nose.

“There’s blood in your hair,” Bakura said. “Not that it’s a deal breaker for me. Kind of a turn on, really.”

“Right? So creepy! Like a horror movie.” Ryou giggled. “There’s blood in your hair too, by the way. The Shadow Magic should have let us keep our costumes. They were sexy.”

“Can’t you sew?”

“I’m already planning a trip to the fabric store. Might have to wait until KC’s next game is finished, but once I get down time again, I’m making us all kinds of sexy costumes.”

"Hey, I'm never wearing regular clothes again." Bakura smirked. 

After they ate, they wandered to the bathroom. Ryou stripped off his clothes before stepping beneath the shower stream. He beckoned to Bakura.

“Are you stepping in?”

“Oh? Am I invited into the showers now? You never let me before.”

“You offered to barter your soul to Zorc in exchange for my life—stupid, by the way, he would have never kept up his part of the bargain. Still...romantic.” Ryou blushed. “You definitely won shower privileges.”

“In that case.” Bakura tossed his clothes over his head and slipped behind Ryou.

Bakura grabbed Ryou’s wash cloth, lathered it with soap, and scrubbed Ryou’s back.

“Feels good.” Ryou sighed. “Should have let you in the shower a month ago.”

“Mmm…” Bakura hummed and kissed a patch of freshly washed skin.

Rubbing the cloth in circles, Bakura trailed down Ryou’s arms and back. He spun Ryou around to get his chest and stomach, and then spun him again so he could lather shampoo into Ryou’s hair.

“You’re spoiling me.” Ryou cooed before tilting his head back to rinse the suds from his blizzard of hair.

“I thought I lost you. It was so surreal I didn’t even have a chance to properly freak the fuck out.” Bakura wrung Ryou’s hair and then added conditioner.

“That’s how I knew what I’d roll. You’ve protected me all those times, there was no way I wasn’t going to save you by beating the game.”

“You can’t just say that like you’re Yugi.” Bakura snorted as he combed conditioner through Ryou’s hair.

“Yes I can.” Ryou stole the wash rag and started scrubbing Bakura in return. “Yugi and I have always been sort of opposites, but at the same time, we’re a lot alike. Duel Monsters was his game, his and Atem’s. Monster World is ours. I was going to roll what I needed.”

“Atem still moved on.” Bakura frowned.

“Well yes, but honestly, I think we’re better at gaming than them, so we’ll probably think of something to keep you around longer. I mean, they dueled each other but we played together and that's a rather significant difference.”

Ryou ended the conversation by working shampoo into Bakura’s hair. Bakura sighed as Ryou tugged and pulled at his hair. He thought maybe it _did_ matter that they played their final game together. It was sort of funny when Bakura thought about it. Co-playing games and folding laundry, next thing Bakura knew, he was going to somehow get a job and become a regular human being and then his Thief King reputation would be destroyed forever.

“I’m going to step out and dry my hair.” Ryou leaned against Bakura’s ear. “Make sure you wash anywhere you want to be kissed.”

“Oh shit,” Bakura’s jaw dropped.

Ryou winked, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel. Bakura grabbed the soap and rubbed a hearty lather into his hands before thrusting them between his legs. Afterward, Ryou helped blow dry his hair. When they were both dry enough not to soak the sheets, Ryou held Bakura’s hand, kissed it, and lead him to the bedroom.

Bakura followed, wordless, breathless, and having a heart attack. Ryou lunged at him and Bakura caught him. Their kisses were easy and smooth, but their hands groped and tugged as if they were dying for each other. Ryou tackled Bakura onto the bed. They bounced and settled, lips still pressing together and hands still groping. Ryou bit Bakura’s neck, and Bakura dug his nails into Ryou’s back. The chain dug into Bakura’s spine. He’d landed on it when they dropped against the sheets and blankets. Wiggling, Bakura pulled the gold away from him before lapping against Ryou’s nipples. Ryou arched like a cobra. He rut their growing cocks together as Bakura flicked his tongue against one nipple and then the other. Trailing a slow path, Ryou licked along Bakura’s creamy skin. He wedged a knee between Bakura’s legs and spread them wide. Ryou tucked a pillow below Bakura’s hips and kissed his thighs.

“ _Ah—ahh—ahh—ahh—ahhh!”_ Bakura gasped as Ryou nibbled higher and higher.

Ryou held the backs of Bakura’s thighs to stretch him wider and lift him slightly. Without hesitation, Ryou fluttered his tongue along Bakura's entrance. Bakura’s voice caught in his throat as he wailed in wordless ecstasy.

“Keep screaming. It sounds wonderful.” Ryou hummed.

His tongue plunged deeper into Bakura’s asshole. Bakura’s cock twitched. One hand gripped the sheets below him. The other curled around the chain because it was the first thing to grab. Ryou wound the excess chain around his arm until there was no slack left and they were connected through a taunt length of golden links. It was apt. The chain was far too short when Bakura first returned, and now a chain’s length from each other felt too far away when they’d rather be wound together. Bakura hooked a leg over Ryou’s shoulder. He teased Ryou’s back with his big toe and grinned even as he gasped for air.

The temptation to touch himself called him like a siren’s aria. Ryou sucked against his entrance and Bakura bucked to push himself against Ryou’s lips. Bakura’s fingers uncurled from the sheets and he trailed his fingertips between his navel and erect cock. Just as he dared to skim his fingertips up the scorching length of his dick, Ryou shot out and clasped his free hand around Bakura’s wrist.

Ryou popped Bakura’s ring and middle finger into his mouth and sucked. His tongue flicked against Bakura’s fingertips. Bakura whimpered, hoping Ryou would return to licking him. Instead, Ryou guided Bakura’s wet fingers into his own asshole and helped Bakura prep himself.

“Keep going.” Ryou released their chain so he could run to his closet and dig through the top shelf.

"Gods." Bakura moaned when he realized what Ryou was looking for. 

Ryou returned with a bottle of lube and drenched his cock. He poured a generous amount onto Bakura’s asshole; Bakura squirmed.

“Fuck. Cold!”

“Sorry.” Ryou giggled, kissing Bakura’s knee in apology.

Bakura worked the gel around his asshole and scissored himself until the lube warmed. Once he felt his muscles relax, he pulled away and parted his legs to invite Ryou inside. He wiped his lube-slick hand on the sheets as vengeance for the cold lube to his asshole. Ryou shot Bakura a look, knowing exactly what Bakura was doing, but they were both too distracted to bicker about it. Instead they chuckled together.

Ryou kissed Bakura’s stomach. He rose to Bakura’s chest, and detoured to the red welts on his arms. As he lavished Bakura’s scars with loving presses of his lips, he sheathed his cock into Bakura’s body.

“Oh Ryou.” Bakura closed his eyes, shuddering in physical and emotional joy.

“Bakura,” Ryou whispered in return as he eased back a few centimetres before slipping to the base.

“ _Ngh_.”

“This... _ah_.” Ryou’s sentence evaporated as he moved.

“Mmm-hmm.” Bakura agreed.

Their arms tangled together. Ryou rocked slow and easy into Bakura’s body. Bakura hitched upward at the zenith of each thrust, but didn’t try to rush Ryou’s pace. He pressed his forehead against Ryou’s shoulder. Each thrust brushed against Bakura’s prostate and felt sharp and wonderful, but more than anything it was Ryou’s arms wrapped around Bakura that brought him closer to the edge. His cock brushed against Ryou’s stomach. He angled himself so he could feel more pressure against his member as they rolled their hips.

Ryou noticed and reached between their bodies so he could stroke Bakura. Bakura whined. The shivers teasing his nerves grew brighter. Ryou’s hand squeezing him was _exactly_ what he’d been craving, and Bakura gave himself over to the experience completely. The moving, their breaths as they moaned in each other’s ears, the warmth generating from their connected bodies, the squeeze around his cock, the pressure of Ryou’s girth inside of him.

“Comm’n,” Bakura murmured as he hid against Ryou.

His body went rigid and then slack. He held Ryou as Ryou continued to rock.

“You’re beautiful...you’re so beautiful…” Ryou whispered as he picked up his pace.

Bakura muttered something in response, but he was too flustered to really pay attention to what he was saying. It hit him that he’d never have a nightmare with Zorc feeding off him again. And although he had no intention of sleeping anywhere but Ryou’s arms for as many nights as he had left on earth, it was still a relief to know he didn’t _have_ to in order to avoid a monster in his sleep. Now, when he held Ryou, it would be because of the way their arms fit around each other, and the forbidden joy Bakura felt when he rested his head against Ryou’s chest.

“Bakura!” Ryou’s nails dug into Bakura’s shoulders as he came.

His hair dripped from his head like thawing icicles. A drop of sweat fell from his chin and plopped on Bakura’s chest. They gave each other a sappy, dopey look. Then Ryou burst into laughter, collapsed on top of Bakura, and squeezed him in a crushing hug.

“I’m going to sleep for three days in a row.” Bakura hummed.

“Me too, and when we wake up, I’ll go grocery shopping and we’ll eat like kings.”

“Then we’ll tweak a few things in our game and play again.”

“Definitely giving my character a few more healing spells.”

“And I need some protection spells.”

“And we were going to go to the movies too, remember?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Bakura nodded, drifting off to sleep.

He wasn’t sure how long, but a pounding on the door woke them up.

“Bakura...kill them.” Ryou hid his face in his pillow, trying to fall back to sleep.

“We’re chained together. You still have to get up even if I kill them.”

“Dammit.” Ryou groaned and sat. “They’re murdering the door. I better see who it is.”

Ryou searched for their clothes, realized they were in the bathroom, and grabbed his pajamas for something to wear why he answered the door. Bakura followed him to the living room.

“Bakura, you didn’t put any clothes on.”

“No one can see me. Who cares?”

“But _I_ know you’re naked.”

“Free eye candy. You’re welcome.” Bakura gave Ryou double finger guns.

Ryou rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his smile. He opened the door and started when Yugi ran into the living room before being invited. His hair was as bed-tousled as theirs and he wore a crumpled t-shirt that looked like something he’d slept in and a pair of jeans.

“Yugi? Are you okay?”

“I saw him! I saw Atem! He was near my bed when I woke up this morning!”

“Really?” Ryou asked, excited.

"Yeah, he said he was visiting because the gods wanted to give this." Yugi held out his hand and offered a key.

“Oh.” Bakura and Ryou spoke at the same time.

They frowned and stared at their wrists. The manacles clung to their arms, but now a small keyhole (not there before) sat in the gold.

“Guess those bastards were watching us after all,” Bakura said.

“They either saw us last night or heard to admit you loved your village or—I suppose it doesn’t matter. You passed their test, and they’ll probably want to weigh you.”

“Ryou.” Bakura dropped to his knees and pressed his head against Ryou’s side.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promised you it’d be okay, but you were right. It wasn’t a promise I had the power to make.”

Ryou lowered himself to the ground and held Bakura. Neither took the key from Yugi’s hand, or acknowledged he was standing beside them. Instead they clung to each other, unable to say goodbye.

“I don’t think either of you have to worry,” Yugi said.

“What do you mean?” Ryou sniffed, wiping a tear from his eye.

“From what Atem was telling me, I’m pretty sure Bakura’s been alive this entire time and Set was just pulling one of his pranks. Atem said that Set said he’s not sorry, by the way. Because his plan worked perfectly? Also, Bakura's not invisible anymore. Thought you might want to know that since he's butt-ass naked in your living room.”

“That _fucker_!” Ryou and Bakura cursed at the same time.

Bakura slapped his forehead. “I thought it was weird that I could touch objects, and feel pain, and used the toilet—what a bastard!”

“I _told you_ to put on clothes!” Ryou snapped at Bakura.

“Hey, this is Set’s fault, not mine.”

“Well now that you’re free and alive you’re going to have to start acting like a real person.”

“That’s vulgar.” Bakura wrinkled his face.

“You’re also getting a job.”

“I _have_ a job, thank you. I’m a professional pillow princess.”

“We’re getting you a job at Kaiba Corp developing games with me.” Ryou spun to Yugi, batting his eyelashes and changing his voice to its usual, sweet, polite tones. “Yugi, could you perhaps talk to Seto and—”

“Sure, Ryou. I don’t mind, but will one of you please take this key? It’s getting heavy and I think you two need some alone time.”

“Sorry.” Ryou grabbed the key and freed himself from the gold chain. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?’

“I’m fine. I want to get a hold of everyone and tell them how Atem’s doing!” Yugi grinned. “See you later.”

He waved and showed himself out. As soon as he left, Bakura grabbed Ryou and spun him in a circle.

“Holy fucking shit I’m alive!”

“You’re alive!” Ryou giggled as he swung in the air.

“I’m alive!”

“You’re still taking me to the movies.”

Bakura pulled Ryou to his chest and bumped their noses together.

“Won’t be quite as fun visible, but I said I’d take you.”

Ryou kissed Bakura’s nose and giggled. At the same time they settled down, leaned in, and brushed their lips together.

“So? Y’gonna free me, or keep me on my leash?”

“Probably safer to keep you on a leash.” Ryou grinned and he kissed Bakura’s wrist below the manacles before slipping the key into the lock and turning it.

It clinked, opened, and dropped to the floor. They stood with their lips hovering close. They smiled and rubbed each other’s wrists.

“You’re free now,” Ryou teased. “What are you going to do now that you’re unbound?”

“Well...first—”

Bakura locked his arms around Ryou’s waist and graced their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the happy ending made up for the Shadow Game bullshit. Thanks to everyone who left comments. 
> 
> I'll have a new story to post in September~


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